


where i want to go

by oh_la_fraise



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, References to Illness, Slow Burn, is it fake dating if only one person knows its fake?, romcom based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_la_fraise/pseuds/oh_la_fraise
Summary: Patrick wondered if this was an elaborate prank, and Ashton Kutcher was about to pop out from behind the sale rack.  “So, you want me to date your son briefly in exchange for money.”Mrs. Rose smiled, reminding him of a shark.  “Do we have an agreement?”Or: the Failure to Launch AU everyone (okay, I) wanted.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Theodore "Ted" Mullens, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Comments: 149
Kudos: 415





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me, several months ago: Do you know what the Schitt's Creek fandom DESPERATELY needs? A Failure to Launch AU!  
LorenzoBane: Um, I think I remember that movie? Kate Hudson's in it, right?
> 
> A HUGE thank you to Lorenzo Bane, who came up with a solid chunk of the jokes, and OscarWildeWannabe, who helped me smooth out all of the ???? parts of the plot. Plus they both have listened to me rant about this for awhile now. Idk, the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes what it wants is to write a fic based off of a mediocre 2000s rom com.
> 
> You don't have to have seen the movie to understand this fic, but it is on Hulu, and I know too many of y'all have watched Score to sneer at its quality. 
> 
> A note that while everything is good now, there are several mentions of past severe illness. Also the entire underpinning of this story--Patrick willing to do questionable things to help pay off his parent's medical debt--falls apart when you remember they're in Canada, but lalala I can't hear you. 
> 
> This fic is mostly done, so Lord willing I'll post the next chapter sooner rather than later. A HUGE thank you to anyone who comments--I'm shamefully behind on replying and also commenting on other fics because grad school has eaten part of my soul, but I appreciate them so fucking much. Also, I can't remember who came up with the name Cheek Boutique because I feel like I have been working on this story for literal decades, but you're a rockstar.
> 
> Title is from Bright Eyes' First Day of My Life.

Each time Wendy paced around the store, which happened about every thirty seconds, the pile of bracelets around her wrist jangled. The noise was making the headache throbbing behind Patrick’s eyes worse. He’d been up since five, doing some freelance work before heading to his day job, and now he was left alone with Wendy at _ Cheek Boutique _ and all of its weird smells until closing. He hated closing with Wendy with an extra passion, because she always made him mop while she reconciled the register, only to admit she didn’t know what she was doing and could _ Patrick please do it since he was an accountant _the second the floor was dry.

It was about five minutes until close, Patrick trying to restock as quickly as possible so he could start sweeping the second he locked the door, when a very . . .interestingly dressed woman walked in. She was wearing a white shirt with dangling sleeves and a wide, boldly patterned skirt, and a pair of towering shoes with the heels cut into stairs. Her hair was bright orange, draping down her back. She looked like a housewife from space. She was also vaguely familiar, but Patrick chalked that up to the nightmares he’d had last week while watching Mary Poppins high on cold meds.

Gritting his teeth as the woman leisurely wandered around without regard to the late hour, Patrick threw a desperate glimpse at Wendy, hoping she’d help the woman so he could focus on restocking. Wendy looked at the computer intently, ignoring him, and Patrick wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, he forced a smile on his face and turned to the woman. “Hello, ma’am. Welcome to the Cheek Boutique. Can I help you find anything? We just got in some lovely new lavender-scented skin cream.”

She gave him a small smirk. “Well, aren’t you an accommodating consignor. Yes, I would be delighted for your assistance. My dear sweet offspring has recently had his heart rent by an unfortunate romantic dalliance. I thought I might find something in this charming establishment to lift his spirits, as it were.”

He nodded politely, even though it took him a few seconds to translate what she’d said. “So, ah, your son ended his relationship? So you want to cheer him up?”

“He didn’t have much choice in things ending, but that’s the gist, yes.”

Patrick nodded, and directed her to their bath bomb section. “He might like that one,” Patrick said, pointing at the orange mint bomb shaped like a starfish. “It’s got satsuma in it, which promotes mental healing.” Patrick didn’t understand the appeal of most of the products they sold—it just wasn’t his wheelhouse—but Patrick was smart and stubborn, so he’d learned to rattle off ingredients and promised effects with the best of them. As the woman picked up the bomb with a skeptical eye, Patrick discreetly darted to the door and flipped the lock. 

He hovered, trying to balance conveying _ our customers are our number one priority! _ and _ please let me go home I’ve been on my feet for five hours. _She tutted, picking through things and discarding them aimlessly, leaving to Patrick to trail behind her, straightening up. “Our family has been blessed with a certain amount of material wealth,” she said, unbidden. “And maintaining that wealth has made it difficult for my husband and I to be involved in our children’s lives as we’d like. Our daughter has thrived—she takes after the best of my husband—but I’m afraid my son is rather caught in a circuitous string of unfortunate relationships.”

“Maybe he just hasn’t met the one,” Patrick offered. Wendy’s head was turned towards them, listening; she’d stopped pretending to try to close the register.

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged. “I’m afraid growing up on a diet of my passionate endeavors in Sunrise Bay has rather skewed his romantic expectations.”

“Oh, you’re Moira Rose,” he said, finally figuring out why she seemed vaguely familiar. “I’m Patrick. I worked at a Rose Video in high school, actually.”

She smiled, but Patrick could sense the pity lurking underneath. “Which must have brought you to this fine establishment. There’s no shame in being a retail worker, dear; after all, what would patrons such as myself do if there were no one to assist us through our mercantile ventures!” Patrick thought she was being genuine, was the worst part. 

“That’s very nice, Mrs. Rose. And no, no shame in working in retail. But this is actually my side job—I’m an accountant during the day.” Despite the fact he said _ no shame, _Patrick felt an urge to find and show her his MBA. 

Her eyes narrowed, as if she was really noticing him for the first time. “And what necessitates this penchant for an alter ego?”

“I, uh,” he hesitated. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was working retail on the side, but the reason _ why _was a little more private than he was comfortable discussing with strangers. Mrs. Rose looked at him expectantly. “I, uh, my mom was sick. She’s better now!” he hastened to add. “But she had a lot of doctors bills that she and my dad were having trouble keeping up with, so, ah, I want to help in anyway I can.”

“How charming of you,” she added, looking at him inquisitively. Patrick felt a bit like a worm squirming on a hook under her direct gaze. “Well, anything for family,” he said, finally.

She hummed before striding to the till, picking up products at random. “Indeed.”

~ 

Patrick mostly forgot about his encounter with Mrs. Rose over the next few days. His Mom got a haircut for the first time since she’d finished chemo, and Patrick wasn’t embarrassed to admit he’d cried a little when he’d found out. He picked up a few more freelance gigs, and no one noticed when he disappeared for an hour during the day to take a nap in his office. All things considered, it was a pretty good week.

He was closing at the Boutique one night when Mrs. Rose returned. He sighed, wishing she had come at _ any _other time of the day—Wendy had left earlier, not even pretending to deal with the till, which meant Patrick was closing all on his own. This time, though, there was a man in tow with her, sharply dressed in a suit that likely cost more than Patrick’s car. Unlike Mrs. Rose, Patrick recognized him instantly from the years spent watching on-boarding videos during the new employee orientations he’d had to run—it was Johnny Rose.

“Moira, I don’t think—“ Mr. Rose was saying, but he stopped as Mrs. Rose walked up to Patrick, taking his hands. Hers were surprisingly warm, and quite possibly the softest hands Patrick had ever felt. 

“Patrick, darling, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our charming encounter last week. Mr. Rose and I looked at your background, and we were suitably impressed. We’d like to propose a somewhat unorthodox . . ._ financial _opportunity for you, in exchange for a brief romantic entanglement.” Patrick froze, feeling her hands squeezing his. Was she. . .hitting on him? In front of her husband? Oh God, were they trying to pay him for some weird threesome?

“Oh, Mrs. Rose, thank you, but I’m very gay—”

She chuckled, delighted. “Oh I know that dear. You’ll recall that I mentioned my son had recently had his spirit crushed by that tawdry harpy he was dating.” He nodded hesitantly. “Well, unfortunately she was hardly a unique occurrence in the history of his relationships. John and I were thinking that, perhaps if he was involved with someone more. . .wholesome, it might be enough of a shock to his system that he would reconsider his standards when choosing future paramours.” 

“So you want me to. . .” Patrick trailed off uncertainly.

“Date our son for a bit, and treat him nice,” Mr. Rose said. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t—I’m really busy—”

“Sweet Patrick, of course we would compensate you for your trouble. One hundred thousand dollars,” she said. Mr. Rose sighed, but he clearly objected more to the scheme in general than the dollar amount in particular.

“A. . .hundred _ thousand _ dollars?” He sputtered. That would pay off his mom’s medical bills, _ and _his parent’s mortgage, and leave him enough left over to ramp up his consulting side—venture. But best of all, he could leave the fucking Cheek Boutique.

“Fine, a hundred fifty.” Mrs. Rose said, nonplussed. “But not a penny more. Half at the beginning, half at the end, whenever that may be.”

Patrick wondered if this was an elaborate prank, and Ashton Kutcher was about to pop out from behind the sale rack. “So, you want me to date your son briefly in exchange for money.”

Mrs. Rose smiled, reminding him of a shark. “Do we have an agreement?”

~

Patrick arrived home a few hours later, not entirely sure what had happened in the interim since the Roses had walked in the store. Ted was puttering around in the kitchen, and smiled at Patrick when he entered. “Hey man, how was work? I made spaghetti if you want some.”

Patrick sunk onto the couch. “Ted, I think did something really stupid today.”

Ted frowned, putting down the bowl he was washing and fished two beers out of the fridge, handing one to Patrick. He and Ted had met when they’d both been looking for roommates and a friend of a friend had connected them. They’d both been desperate; Ted’s old roommate had recently moved out, and the reason Ted was such a successful vet was that he’d gone to a very prestigious and _ expensive _grad school. It had also been around the time Patrick’s lease was up and he’d realized he couldn’t continue justifying paying for his own place; his other option would have been to move back into his parents' house, which, just, no. He and Ted got along surprisingly well, having similar tastes in sports and generally easy demeanors, though Patrick had to talk Ted down from bringing home a stray dog once or twice. Without Patrick entirely realizing it, Ted had somehow become one of his closest friends.

Ted settled on the couch next to him, and looked at Patrick expectantly. Patrick took a long pull of his beer. “I agreed to date someone’s son in exchange for money.”

Ted’s eyebrows furrowed. “Patrick,” he said, clearly concerned. “You _ Pretty Woman _-ed yourself?”

“No?” Patrick hadn’t actually _ seen _Pretty Woman, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with prostitution. “I was very clear that there would be no sex. Just dating him—treating him nice? Apparently he’s had a string of bad relationships, and his parents thinking dating someone nice will jolt him out of his habit.”

“_ Oh,” _ said Ted, nodding, as if Patrick had said something incredibly more _ normal than I prostituted myself. _ “You _ Failure to Launch-ed Yourself.” _

_ “ _I’m . . .sorry?”

Ted’s eyes widened. “_ Failure to Launch? _The seminal Matthew McConaughey and Sarah Jessica Parker classic?”

It was at this point Patrick remembered two things: first, Ted had terrible taste in movies, and second, outside of being a vet, Ted was kind of an idiot. “Pretend like I haven’t seen it.”

“Okay,” Ted said, leaning forward. “So Matthew McConaughey lives with his parents, and they want him to leave, so they hire Sarah Jessica Parker, who dates men like him for a living and convinces them to move out of their parents' house. Only SJP falls in love with him!”

“. . .Right.” Patrick said at last. “Well, the fact that David doesn’t live with his parents aside, I’m not going to fall in love with him. I’m just going to take him out for dinner a few times, stroke his ego, and tell him he deserves someone special who isn’t me.”

Ted hummed. “That’s what Sarah said.”

~

The next day, Patrick received an email from a Gwen Currie, Mr. Rose’s personal assistant, asking for his attendance at an upcoming Rose family function, and his address to send a check for his first payment. Patrick briefly hesitated, considering this might be all be an elaborate ploy to get his address and murder him, but eventually he replied. At least if it were an elaborate serial killer plot, maybe Ted would finally get his money’s worth from those karate classes. 

When he arrived home from his shift at Cheek Boutique, there was a check for _ seventy-five thousand dollars _ in his mailbox _ . _He began writing a strongly worded email to Wendy in his mind to send the second the check cleared. 

Two days later, another email arrived from Gwen, simply saying _ The party is black tie. Please don’t embarrass Mr. Rose and dress bad. _There were several links included, one of which was a combo formal wear and sex toy shop. Another was entirely in Cyrillic. Patrick closed the window and dialed the local tuxedo shop.

In the meantime, Patrick did what he did best: research. He tentatively typed _ johnny rose children _ into Google. Pictures for a stunningly beautiful woman came up; _ Alexis Rose, _Google informed him. Patrick clicked on her first, telling himself that it was important he know about all the players in the Rose family. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wasn’t going to have to pretend to date Alexis.

She was pretty—Patrick could recognize that in an abstract way. He’d figured out the whole _ oh shit I’m queer thing _ right before his Mom had gotten sick; he’d been on a few mediocre dinner dates that hadn’t gone past first base, and then everything had turned into chemo and night shifts and dating had been the last thing on his mind. Patrick supposed it was a good thing, in retrospect—he would have turned down a _ hundred and fifty thousand dollars _if he’d had a boyfriend, but he would have been salty about it.

Alexis seemed to have a _ vibrant _ life—there were stories of her worldwide modeling career and attempts at a singing career, sprinkled in between headlines like _ Rose heiress foils sex trafficking ring from hotel poolside _ and _ Alexis Rose spotted in FBI raid of Milwaukee mafia. _He moved on from Alexis to Mr. and Mrs. Rose. Mr. Rose he already knew a fair about, and he didn’t learn too much new about Mrs. Rose, other than she had a penchant for performative live scream shows.

Finally, he clicked the link for _ David Rose, son. _

To Patrick’s surprise, the first result wasn’t a gossip article or a generic Wikipedia page, although there were plenty of those. Instead, a link to _ D. Rose Gallery _ was displayed at the top. Patrick clicked the link, and was directed to a grayscale website. He clicked on the _ currently showing _link, and vivid colors appeared against the black background. 

Patrick understood the aesthetic appeal of art about as much as he did women; he could sense when a painting or photo was objectively skillful, but he didn’t have much appreciation for art beyond a simple _ huh, that’s pretty to look at. _Put a Picasso and mass produced hotel art next to each other, and Patrick would honestly probably pick the hotel art. At least he knew what it was supposed to be. 

But even Patrick felt a little something looking at the art on David’s website. They were mostly photographs, with a few paintings scattered here and there, and even though there were about half a dozen artists, there was a clear unifying theme. Each piece radiated . . ._ love, _was the first thing that came to mind. 

Eventually, Patrick moved on. The about section was sparse; there was a short message that said the Gallery was owned and operated by David Rose, but said nothing else about its owner. He clicked back to the Google page, this time hitting the gossip sites. 

The stories were. . .less flattering then the Gallery page, to say the least. Story after story of salacious gossip: _Bad Rosemance! Gaga Dumps Video Chain Heir at Madison Square Garden Concert _and _Uh oh! Zachary Quinto Spotted with New Beau. Is Hollywood’s Power Brow Couple Old News? _The hits kept coming and coming; it seemed David had dated, and been dumped by, half of Hollywood. Patrick felt a little unease curl in his gut. There was one thing in common all of David’s relationships, and that was David himself. Patrick wasn’t sure that the problem in David’s relationships were the _other_ people, and even if they were, Patrick didn’t have anything to offer David that a threesome with Chrissy Tiegen and John Legend couldn’t.

But, Patrick could admit to himself, no matter what his personality was like, David Rose was attractive. At least Patrick would get some eye candy.

The days passed in a haze of audits and jasmine scented hand soap until it was time for the gala. As Patrick put on the tux he’d rented, he glanced at himself in the mirror and wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck he was doing. He was Patrick Brewer: steady, practical, risk-averse. Not the kind of guy that got into a pretend relationship for money.

But then he thought about the pinch between his Dad’s eyebrows when the topic of bills came up, and straightened his tie.

Pulling up to the mansion, he regretted his rented tux instantly. Patrick wasn’t much for fashion, but he knew the second he got out of the car, he had been very, very outspent. Everything was glittering and covered in jewels, and the men’s suits were gleaming with soft looking fabric. The valet took one look at his Toyota Corolla and sneered.

He took a deep breath, and pushed through.

Patrick’s confidence lasted until he was faced with a stern looking man at the door. He smiled as a fabulously elegant couple walked through, but when Patrick walked up, he pulled out a clipboard. “Name?”

“Patrick? Patrick Brewer?” He hated that it sounded like a question.

He barely glanced at the page. “You’re not on the list.” 

“I’m a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Rose.” Even as he said it, Patrick winced a little bit; he sounded like he was talking to one of his teachers.

Just then, an elegant looking older woman in a very, _ very _short dress approached. “Is there a problem, Jack?”

“Just a party crasher, Gwen. Nothing to worry about.”

Something clicked in Patrick’s brain. “Gwen? Gwen Currie! It’s me, Patrick Brewer.”

She sighed. “_ You’re _Patrick? A little on the short side. And you know what the say about short men. . .”

“Um,” Patrick said, helpless as to how to respond. The teenage boy in his brain wanted to shout _ no complaints so far! _but a large amount of money for his parents was on the line, and also he had gotten complaints, albeit they’d been more related to gay-panic-induced performance issues. Not a therapy session he wanted to get in with the bouncer.

He was saved by the bouncer sighing. “Fine, go on in.” Patrick glared as he crossed the threshold, and then was tugged along by Gwen, who was walking way too fast for the shoes she was wearing.

They emerged into what could only be described as a great hall. Patrick thought great halls were things that only occurred in books, and not something real life people had, but MTV Cribs had a shocking number of seasons, he supposed. It was packed with people who looked rich and important, and even though Patrick was a natural networker, he felt totally out of his league. He thought about bailing again, but he thought he might at least get some fancy petit fours out of it. Before he could, though, Gwen was shoving him at Johnny Rose. 

Behind him stood David, hair aloft, in a sharply fitted, very tight suit. He looked like he’d just walked straight out of a fashion shoot. 

“Patrick!” Mr. Rose said, smiling widely and blinking completely unsubtly. “Meet my son, David. David, this is Patrick. He’s a former top-notch Rose Video employee, and an ace accountant we’re considering bringing on.”

“Hi,” said Patrick, giving a small wave. David nodded cooly, half heartedly lifting his wrist in response. 

“Son, Patrick is a very nice boy,” Mr. Rose said, pumping his eyebrows in a way that made Patrick feel dirty. Mr. Rose coughed. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone.”

He vanished, Gwen behind him, clicking away on a tablet as she didn’t even wobble in her ridiculously tall shoes. Patrick and David stood in awkward silence; Patrick was just about to resort to _ How about the Astros? _ when David sighed. “My father is not known for his gift giving abilities.” And _ ah _. If that was the kind of care and consideration David treated his partners with, no wonder nothing had stuck. Even if David didn't know Patrick was getting paid, he was clearly to used to some meddling from his parents that he spotted Johnny's awkward attempts at match-making so quickly.

“You think I’m bad, you should have seen the accountant they almost hired. You would have been begging for a refund.” The response came naturally, and Patrick wanted to kick himself; he was supposed to be _ wooing _David, not being a total ass.

But David smirked a little wider until he was almost smiling. “Kittens got claws.”

Patrick shrugged a little, unable to help himself. “I’m an accountant, remember? Dealing with obnoxious rich people is in my job description.”

David eyed him up and down, as if seeing him anew, and Patrick squirmed a little at the predatory gaze. “All right, Mr. Milk Maid, you’ve interested me enough to waste my time a little. You can take me on a date tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

“And then he just walked away?” Ted asked the next morning over breakfast.

Patrick shrugged.“Well, he said he had to go council Kourtney on a wardrobe malfunction, but basically, yeah.”

Ted’s eyes widened.“Kourtney, like Kourtney Kardashian?You know what—never mind.So what’s the plan for tonight?”

“I’m going to take him to a nice restaurant.I figure—rich guy, he’s gotta like that, right?”Patrick hated that it came out like a question, but, well, it was.Even though he was confident in most areas of his life, romance wasn’t one of them.Romantic gestures didn’t come naturally to him, unlike Ted, who had once gotten a girl to forgive him for missing a date by folding a literal thousand cranes.Patrick would have liked to blame it on his inner queer Patrick trying to sabotage his attempts at relationships with women, or the fact that Rachel had been incredibly low fuss, but Patrick was just beginning to think it was _him _and his boring practicality.That probably wouldn’t get him very far with a _social trendsetter, _but he was determined to try. 

Ted nodded.“Seems like a solid plan.”

~

They had exchanged a few texts in the interim—Patrick hadn’t asked, exactly, how David had gotten his number, chalking it up to rich people magic—but Patrick had been, he thought, very clear about where they were going.When he picked up David, however, he was in what was admittedly a button down shirt, but it was ripped in places, and he was in a pair of shredded jeans.“Um,” Patrick said, trying to figure out how to be diplomatic.“The dress code at Circe is pretty strict—did you want to go somewhere else?” 

David rolled his eyes, as if the whole situation—Patrick’s car and Patrick’s question and Patrick’s date—was beneath him.Patrick felt a little annoyed.“Don’t worry, it won’t be an issue.”

They sat in silence until Patrick pulled up to the restaurant handed his keys to the valet; sure enough, when they walked inside, not only did the hostess not flinch at David’s attire, but they were led to a _much _nicer table than the middle of the dining room fare Patrick had been promised on the phone.

Patrick tried not to boggle at the menu prices—he’d done his research beforehand, and Gwen had provided a needlessly complex form for date expenses reimbursements, but he still couldn’t believe the prices.One appetizer cost more than he’d spent on entire meals before. He ordered a roast duck, while David ordered some fancy vegetable dish Patrick wasn’t sure how to pronounce. 

After ordering, David sat back and twirled his wrist at Patrick in a way that said, _okay, you got me here, now what._Patrick cleared his throat.“So, uh, it’s pretty exciting that the Nats won.My cousin works in DC; he was pretty pumped.”

David raised an eyebrow.“The Gnats—are they a new political party?”

Patrick deflated a little.“No, uh, they’re DC’s baseball team?They just won the World Series.”As David continued to stare blankly, Patrick continued, “I guess you’re not a baseball fan.What did you do last weekend?”

“Cocaine off of Enrique Iglesias’s abs,” David replied promptly.Now Patrick was the one staring.David’s shoulders rose a fraction of an inch; he looked, for the first time since the admittedly short time Patrick had known him, less than bullishly confident.Almost as if he were afraid Patrick would judge him.

Which, wasn’t Patrick?Their lives were so different.Patrick didn’t belong in a world where he spontaneously did narcotics with b-list celebrities and got the best seat at a Michelin star restaurant just because of his name.Patrick wondered, for about the fiftieth time that evening, what the fuck he’d agreed to.But he thought about his parents’ now empty retirement fund and plunged ahead.Given the way the night was going, Patrick didn’t think he’d have this job for much longer anyway.

“Surely we have something in common.What movies do you like?”

“90’s and early 2000’s romantic comedies, mostly.The Holiday is one of my personal favorites.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

For a second, David looked so shocked Patrick was afraid he was going to throw his wine at Patrick like in the movies David apparently loved when a girl found out her boyfriend was cheating.Instead, he shook his head.“Okay, we are watching that _immediately.”_

_“_Oh, we are,” Patrick teased.“Is this a one for one deal?If I watch the Holiday will you watch Field of Dreams?”

“Mmm.Who’s in it?”

“Kevin Costner.But young, so he’s still pretty attractive.”

“Um, excuse you, Kevin Costner could still get it.Although I don’t think I’d mess with him; I once saw him return an ice cream cone because it wasn’t melted enough.”

Patrick laughed.“That’s nothing.I just quit a retail side hustle; you should have seen some of the crazy stuff people have done at the shop.One time a lady ate an entire bath bomb.I told her it wasn’t edible, but she just shrugged and kept eating.And then she didn’t even pay for it!”

David laughed, and it transformed his face into something less cold.“Even in the Galleries, we get some crazies.I think it’s all the money.”

“Rich people can be dramatic?” Patrick gasped.“No.”

David rolled his eyes.“Please.I’m child’s play compared to some of the people I’ve worked with.One time Madonna dropped a napkin at an opening, and a guy asked how much it was.”

“What’d you say?” 

David shrugged, looking innocent.“5k.And he paid it!”

“Wow.”

“Eh.He was a real estate mogul.He could afford it.I may be rich, but at least I’m not buying up apartments in the city that I never use.”

From there, the conversation turned into current events; baseball aside, David was well informed despite his carefree rich boy persona, and Patrick was having a surprising amount of fun arguing the finer points of requiring math in high school curriculums.The maitre’d appeared, clearing his throat.“Can I interest you gentlemen in dessert?” 

Patrick turned to him, only to realize for the first time that the restaurant was totally empty, the staff breaking down the tables farthest from them.He checked his watch—the restaurant had closed half an hour ago.

He winced, thinking of all the people who had kept him from going home on time at the Cheek Boutique.“No, uh, that’s okay,” he said.He turned to David.“We should let them go home.”

“It’s no trouble, gentlemen,” the waiter said, but Patrick could see _I have an opening shift tomorrow _in his expression.Instead, Patrick handed him his debit card.

David squinted a little.“I could have gotten that.”

Patrick shrugged.“I asked you out.I got it.”

“Do you though?I mean, you’re an _accountant, _who, and I quote, ‘recently had a retail side hustle.’”David looked like the concept of what he was saying was a little foreign to him, but, to his credit, he was trying.

Patrick waved him off again.“I’ve got it, David.”

“Most people don’t protest this much when I try to pay for things.”

“David, believe it or not, your money wasn’t the reason I asked you out.”Patrick winced a little in his head, even though, strictly speaking it was true—David’s _parents’ _money was the reason.

That, however, got David smirking a little.He leaned forward.“Hmm.What was it then?My on-call Molly dealer?”

Patrick leaned in too. “Well, I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispered.David leaned forward until their noses were practically touching, hanging on Patrick’s every word.Up close, Patrick could see faint laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.“I’m actually a time traveling spy for Blockbuster, sent to ruin the competition.”

David jerked back, making a noise that could only be described as _cackling_._I did that, _Patrick thought watching him laugh.He felt warm with satisfaction; Patrick had always enjoyed being good at his job.“I have to admit, this wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be.”

Patrick rolled his eyes.“Wow, such high praise.”

“I’m known for my conversational skills,” David said, smile melting into more of a smirk.“But if you want this to go anywhere, we have to see if you can hang with my crowd.Party at Xerxes tonight; be there at eleven.”

“We could just go now?”There wasn’t much point in going home for half an hour before having to turn around. 

David gave him a look that could have melted steel. “We can’t go in what we’re wearing.Dress to impress.”

“So I should wear my formal khakis then?”The barb landed exactly as he expected, and David looked exasperated.Teasing David was fun; Patrick would always be down to give rich people a hard time, but David was also good at teasing _back._

“You’re so close to this falling apart.”

~

After he dropped David off, Patrick found himself staring indecisively at two nearly identical shirts.The navy one had a little bit of a pattern to it, but the black one was a little too small in a way that Patrick knew did nice things to his arms.Sighing, he called for Ted.He was way out of his depth trying to pick out casually sexy clothes for a swanky club. 

Ted poked his head in Patrick’s room. “Yeah?” Patrick turned and gestured towards the shirts on his bed.Ted hummed.“What’s the occasion?”

“David has invited me to a club party.”

He nodded. “Black one then. It does good things for your shoulders.How’s the mission going?”

“Okay, I think? He invited me out tonight, but I think he might be trying to haze me a little.”

“What club?”

“Xerxes? It’s downtown.”

Ted whistled. “Wow. That’s big man. That place is supposed to be awesome; I’ve tried to get in a few times but never had any luck.”

Patrick shrugged. “You wanna come with?”He figured it wouldn’t be a problem; Patrick could get him in the door, and then Ted could entertain himself while Patrick tried to woo David.

Ted whistled again when, dressed to the nines as two millennials drowning in debt could be, they pulled up at the club.Even Patrick, whose previous height of sophistication was wine night at Whole Foods, could tell it was swanky; the outside was all shiny chrome, a line of scantily clad women stretching down the block.When he said “David Rose,” the bouncer smiled and let them, ignoring the waiting crowd.

Patrick’s phone buzzed._Be there in fifteen _David had sent.

They had just made their way to the VIP area when an attractive blonde woman in a very sparkly, very short dress came up.She looked familiar; Patrick figured she’d appeared in his reasearch of David’s usual entourage.She ignored Patrick completely and walked up to Ted, trailing a finger down his leather jacket. “You’re new,” she said.“Who are you?”

Ted was stuttering. “I’m vet?I mean, I’m Ted vet.” Patrick elbowed him from behind.“Um. I’m Ted and I’m a vet.”

She seemed to find his stuttering charming, giving him a look up and down. “Well, Ted who’s a vet.I assume that means you’re used to leashes and collars?”

Ted coughed so hard Patrick was glad he hadn’t actually started drinking, because otherwise he’d probably would have had to give Ted the Heimlich.

“This is going to be fun,” she smirked, and pulled Ted into the crowd. Ted muttered a slightly-terrified _sorry_ over his shoulder before disappearing completely.

Left alone, Patrick wandered, taking in the people grinding around him. Everyone was in very colorful outfits, and, like at the Roses’ party, he felt very out of place.He spotted a woman in a black sheath dress—it was low cut, but down right conservative compared to what everyone else was wearing.Patrick made his way over, hoping she was tame enough to pass the time with until David arrived. 

She looked him up and down.“Hmm.Pasty-ass white boy in sensible jeans; you must be David’s new boy toy,” she said.

“Um, no?”He bit his lip.“I was on my way to an accounting conference, and my car broke down—”

She threw her head back, laughing loudly.Patrick grinned and sat down beside her, extending a hand.“Patrick.”

“Stevie,” she said, taking his hand.“David said I’d be able to spot you, but I didn’t know it would be quite so obvious,” she said, giving his outfit a once over.

“Yeah, this party is . . .something.”A woman walked by dressed liked a peacock. “How do you know David?”

She laughed.“I was somehow a division director for Rose Video before it shut down, and he hit on me at the holiday Christmas party.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow.“And you didn’t immediately propose?”

“Oh I came close—the flat ironed bangs really did it for me—but we eventually decided we were better off as friends.And all these years later, here we are.”

Patrick took her in.She was, all things considered, much less flashy than the glitz around them, and Patrick was surprised David had kept her around.She didn’t seem to fit into David’s brand, but that fact might make Patrick’s job of showing David what a normal relationship looked like a little easier. 

“Oh my,” Stevie said, looking up.Patrick followed her gaze, and, oh.Wow. 

David was approaching, a small grin on his face.Unlike Patrick and Stevie, David had clearly dressed to fit the mood.He was in a pair of low distressed leather pants that were tight in a way that had Patrick feeling flushed, and his hair looked so soft it was as if it had gotten to that height naturally and not with what was probably half a bottle of whatever expensive gel David used.But the best—or worst, depending on what body part Patrick was asking—was his top.It was some sort of. . .[chain mail crop top](https://www.laureldewitt.com/wp-content/uploads/photo-gallery/Editorial/Laurel%20DeWitt%20Editorial%20Richard%20Warren%202.jpg), with metal strands dangling in alternating rows of gold and silver.His stomach was bare, and Patrick saw the trail of hair between his hipbones and wanted to bite.

David smirked as if he knew exactly what Patrick was thinking, and gracefully dropped himself into Patrick’s lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.David’s ass just barely grazed over Patrick’s rapidly awakening dick; Patrick let out a small grunt, and David smirked even harder.“Evening Stevie,” he said, completely ignoring Patrick as if he were a convenient arm chair. 

Stevie smirked, looking at Patrick in a way that made it clear she saw his blooming embarrassment.“Evening, David.That’s quite the outfit.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” David preened.“I see you’ve met Patrick.”

“Yes,” she said.“But when you said you were seeing an accountant, I didn’t realize you summoned a Quickbooks ad to life.”

“Ignore her,” David said, sliding off of Patrick’s lap.Patrick stared stupidly after him.“Let’s go dance.”

Patrick, dazed, let David pull him along the dance floor, bass thumping through the club. Patrick wasn’t normally one for dancing, but David’s excited energy was infectious, and he was feeling loose enough from the beers he and Ted had pregamed with to not feel so self conscious.David smiled and rolled his eyes.“Are you sure you’re gay?” he asked, “because you dance _very _straight.”

Patrick let out a bark of laughter.David, for all his histrionics, was incredibly funny.“I didn’t come out until I was older.I had a lot of conditioning to unlearn.”

Various people pulled David away throughout the night, but he never let Patrick leave his side.Patrick watched him get steadily drunker, and was glad he was sober enough to be the responsible one.People seemed to have no problem letting David buy them increasingly expensive drinks, and more than one person trailed their finger down his chest suggestively.It wasn’t that Patrick was jealous—he was just doing this for the money—but David hardly seemed to be in good enough shape for that kind of activity.Patrick was supposed to be Ted’s DD, but given the last time he’d seen Ted he’d been attached at the same girl’s side, he figured Ted wouldn’t be in a hurry to leave with Patrick.

It was when David stumbled, glassy eyed, when a girl with shoes that cost more than Patrick’s car offered to go to the back for a hit of cocaine, that Patrick decided they’d had enough.“C’mon, I’ll take you home.”The Roses’ money was the last thing on his mind; he was legitimately worried that David might not get there by himself.

David didn’t argue, though plenty of people seemed sad to see him go—Patrick wasn’t sure if it was because they liked David, or the drinks David was buying.Patrick had David’s license from when they’d closed the tab, so he loaded David into the back of an Uber, praying the address on the license was where he actually lived. David pawed at him absently as they sat in the cab. 

The cab pulled in front of a very expensive high rise, and the doorman smirked when Patrick walked them towards the door, David draped over his side.“Good evening, Mr. Rose,” he said, smartly, and Patrick was too relieved to find David actually lived here to mind the judgmental tone in the doorman’s voice.“I have no idea where his key is,” Patrick said.“Don’t suppose you have an extra?” 

The doorman rolled his eyes, obviously unimpressed by Patrick.“Get in the elevator and have him scan his finger—it’ll take you to the Penthouse.”When he finally managed to wrangle David into the elevator and up to his apartment, Patrick couldn’t help but whistle.He was pretty sure the couch alone cost more than all of his and Ted’s furniture combined.

David stumbled in.“Want me to make you a martini?”he slurred, traipsing around. 

Patrick watched, concerned.“Why don’t we get you to bed, instead.”David swayed to him, eyes darkening, and Patrick wasn’t proud to admit his heart sped up. 

“Yes sir,”David responded, and tugged Patrick along into a ridiculously large bedroom.Patrick could tell just by looking the sheets would be soft.David stumbled into Patrick’s space, and Patrick spun him around; to his relief, the clasp on the back of David’s fancy top was rather simple.David managed to get himself out of his tight pants, and turned around, running a finger down Patrick’s chest.Patrick ignored him and pulled open a few drawers until he found a pair of sweatpants.

He managed to get David to step into them, but when he stood up, David collapsed back onto the bed, pulling Patrick on top of him.“Whoa,” Patrick said. 

David leaned up, Patrick assumed to kiss him, but his mouth ended up somewhere below Patrick’s ear.Undeterred, David began biting, and Patrick had to reign in his baser impulses to make himself pull back.“Let’s go to bed, okay?”

David lay back, looking at Patrick’s face and nodding.He pressed himself into Patrick’s space. “Please, can you just. . .hold me a little, before we fuck? You’re warm.”

Patrick pulled back, looking at him.His black eyes were staring at Patrick, and he looked as if he was scared Patrick would say no.He looked. . ._human, _and, for the first time, Patrick wondered if David’s past relationship failures weren’t actually David’s fault.

“Yeah, okay, David,” Patrick said.His plan had been to try to get David under the covers and leave, but looking at David’s face, and the way he was pressing himself into Patrick’s body, Patrick didn’t have the heart to leave him alone.Instead, he dragged the throw at the end of the bed over them, and wrapped his arms around David until they were spooning.David stopped shivering slowly, and before Patrick knew it, he was drifting off to sleep. 

~

“Oh.My god.Why is it so bright in here?”

The horrified voice had Patrick shifting awake.David was sitting up, squinting into the light streaming in from the open curtains.David had entirely lost his effervescent and easy sexiness from the night before.His hair was flattened on one side, and the concealer he’d been wearing to keep his under eye circles hidden had smudged and mostly faded away.At some point, he’d rolled over on his face, and his eyebrows were now jutting in every direction.

He looked, somehow, even more attractive than he had the night before. 

Patrick laughed, sliding off the bed and pulling the curtains shut.“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

David didn’t laugh, looking at Patrick’s sleep-creased button down.“We didn’t have sex?”

“No.”

“So you wanted to this morning?”David asked, still stone faced. 

“No, I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

David stared. “You stayed.”

“Should I not have?” he asked, suddenly feeling unsure.

David shook his head. “No, it’s okay; I’m just not used to—” He shook his head again.“Um. Do you want to go to breakfast? Porch is a few blocks away, and they do a wonderful açaí bowl.”

“I don’t really want an açaí bowl,” Patrick said, right as his stomach rumbled noisily. 

David seemed to deflate a little. “Oh, okay.”

“I want breakfast,” Patrick hastened to add.Which, he did, because he was hungry and he was getting paid to be nice to David.But also because he’d actually had a pretty good time last night. “I just thought we could both use some carbs? There’s got to be a greasy spoon somewhere around here.”

David was quiet as they dressed, but it was more relaxed then it had been the previous night.He shoved a pile of clothes at Patrick, and, to Patrick’s relief, it was a basic pair of black sweats and a black and white t-shirt.Even David had to have casual wear, he supposed.They took turns showering, and Patrick was too busy enjoying the multiple jets and hot water that actually stayed hot to think too long about the trail of hair that had disappeared into David’s sweats. 

At the diner David “found” fairly quickly for someone who had supposedly never been, David ordered an egg white spinach omelette.He proceeded to pick at it as he kept eyeing Patrick’s steak and eggs.Finally, Patrick sighed, shoving the plate across the table. “Please eat. You don’t have to try to impress me with how healthy you are, and I’m hungry just looking at you.” 

David hesitated, looking at Patrick’s plate again, and Patrick smiled and held out a hand.“Look,” he said.“Let’s start fresh.Hi, I’m Patrick.I’m financially responsible and mediocre taste-wise enough to not be interested in your Molly connections.You’re David, and you find me charming enough to be interested in more than sex despite the fact that I own multiple shirts from the Gap.”

“I didn’t know it was _multiple,” _David said, but he was smiling a little, a small, timid thing.He took Patrick’s hand and squeezed, and then gestured at a passing waitress.“Hi, yeah, can I get an order of chocolate chip pancakes please?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your sweet comments so far! And a huge shout to unfolded73 and RhetoricalQuestions for talking me through baseball positions.

Eventually, after a side of bacon and half of Patrick’s eggs, David had to go to a funeral for his tailor’s parakeet, so he and Patrick went their separate ways. His car was still at the club, but the weather was nice and cool, so Patrick decided to walk home and get a ride from Ted later. The past day had gone well, he thought. David had been comfortable to let his guard down around Patrick a little, which seemed like a sign the Roses were getting their money’s worth. And David, albeit pretentious, was a lot more fun to hang out with than Patrick had anticipated. He was unusually eager to tell Ted about how much fun they’d had at breakfast—Ted would appreciate the success of a job well done, he figured.

He swung the door to their apartment open, whistling, to a veritable horror show. He shot back into the hall, slamming the door. “Oh my god, oh my god,” he gasped. Patrick’s face felt like it was on fire. Why had Ted been wearing his _ lab coat _? And had the girl been doing a handstand? 

He pulled his phone out, desperate to share the horror with _ someone. _ David was the most person in his phone that wasn’t Ted or his Mom. _ I just walked in on my roommate and a girl! _he sent, trying to erase the image in his brain. Patrick had briefly told David about Ted at breakfast, and how he’d been whisked away the night before. 

_ Wow. Guess he had a better night than you did, huh? _David responded almost immediately. Patrick thought he’d be texting LOL if David was the kind of person to do that.

_ Don’t laugh!!! She’s from YOUR party so this is all your fault. _

_ Oh fuck. What’s the girl look like? _

_ Tall, tan, shoulder length dark blonde hair. She was really. . .sparkly last night. _

_ Ex of yours? _

_ EW NO _

_ I’m pretty sure that’s my sister. _

And fuck, _ now _Patrick realized why the girl from the night before had seemed familiar. 

Of course, that was when Ted finally opened the door. Patrick slid his phone back into his pocket; he could feel it furiously buzzing with what he assumed were more frantic texts from David. Ted, thankfully dressed now, looked a little roughed up, and Patrick was going to ask if he was okay, but he was smiling so dopily he couldn’t be anything but deeply satisfied. Patrick walked in, feeling like he was a guest in his own apartment. The awkwardness in the air was practically tangible. The girl—it was Alexis, he realized, was perched elegantly on their tattered armchair as if she owned it. Even though Patrick was pretty sure they’d gone straight home from the party, she was in a different outfit than she had been in last night, and her makeup and hair were flawless despite Ted’s disheveled state. 

“Um, Alexis, this is Patrick, my roommate.” Ted finally said. Ted was always so unfailingly nice and polite; it was why Patrick’s nascent crush on him had died the second they’d moved in together and Ted had presented him with a housewarming present of matching slippers.

She smiled brightly, the same false smile David had given him the night before at dinner. “So you’re the one dating my brother,” Alexis said. “I know eight different ways to kill someone with a bobby pin.”

He swallowed, having no doubt she meant it. In between her wild adventures, the papers hadn’t mentioned David and Alexis as being particularly close, but Patrick was suspecting they’d missed something. “Noted.”

She smiled—a real smile this time, lighting up her face. Patrick understood why Ted was so smitten; even Patrick was flushed a little, and the only tits he was interested in were the cute birds in the documentary Ted had made him watch. Such was the power of Alexis Rose. “That’s good, because you seem nice, and I doubt you’ll slip him subpar ecstasy like the last girl he dated.”

“I . . .won’t?”

She nodded again. “Well now that that’s settled, c’mon cutie,” she said, pulling Ted by the t-shirt. 

Ted shrugged as Alexis strode away. "Sorry, man. I have no control with what’s happening here.”

~

Eventually, Patrick retreated to his room, which, very thankfully, didn’t share a wall with Ted’s. He had eighteen missed texts from David, and Patrick sent back a _ it was alexis but dont worry ted’s a great guy. _ David sent back a grimace emoji, then _ funeral’s starting, _ followed by a picture of four men in dark suits baring what looked like a serving platter. He had another missed text, though, from his cousin Matt. _ hey, not to freak you out, but I was over helping your dad with some yard work this morning, and i overheard aunt marcy say something about a mortgage. _

The lightness Patrick had been feeling evaporated. 

God, what was he doing? Here he was smiling at David’s silly text, when his parents were thinking about taking out a mortgage on their house. The house they’d built when Patrick was a baby, where he’d been raised, where’d he’d left for college and never returned. He’d justified it to himself that he could make more money in the big city an hour away, and that had been his excuse as he’d left his Mom every night during chemo to drive home. But if he wasn’t spending time with them—wasn’t around to help them not burn out worrying about things yard work—he needed to at least keep up the money part of the deal. He should start thinking about what he’d do for his next date with David, but instead, he kept staring at his phone.

He hit dial. He really needed to hear his Mom’s voice right now.

“Hi sweetie!” his Mom chirped when he picked up. Patrick bit his lip; he was thirty years old, he wasn’t going to cry because he missed his Mom. Instead, he coughed. “Hey Mom. How’re things?”

His Mom walked him through her life since they’d talked a few days ago—Mrs. Anderson down the street had made a terrific carrot cake, and Jenny Housner was apparently cheating with the neighborhood landscaper. He made a note to tell David about this scandalous neighborhood gossip later, because David would enjoy it and it might show David Patrick’s life wasn’t as boring as David acted like it was.

“And Matty just left,” Marcy was saying, “Your dad was going to trim the bushes by himself, but the man doesn’t know how to hold a butter knife, little less a chainsaw.”

“I could have driven up to help Dad with the bushes,” he said. He meant it to be a throwaway remark—_ just remember I’m here if you need it!— _but it came out a little choked.

There was a pause, and his Mom said, cautiously, “Patrick, I know you would have. But you were working all last weekend and were here three nights the week before. You can’t run yourself into the ground.”

“But you need help.” He swallowed. “Matt said he heard you mention a mortgage.”

There was a pause, and Patrick ground his fist into this thigh. “Sweetheart,” she said, “We’re the parents, and you're our son. We can take care of ourselves.”

_ But you shouldn’t have to, _he wanted to say. But he didn’t. Soon enough, he and David would go their separate ways, and then his parents wouldn’t have to worry about money any longer. 

“I love you, Mom,” he said instead. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.” 

~

After the call with his Mom, Patrick focused on _ doing his job _. There was no rule that he couldn’t have fun with David, but there was a point to all of this, and show David what a healthy relationship looked like, so that he could have a lasting relationship with the next person he dated. 

Patrick was beginning to think, though, that David didn’t need fancy dining or lavish parties to feel appreciated. Patrick didn’t mind the fancy restaurants, but he thought that secretly David enjoyed the mundanity of the everyday world. So a few days later, Patrick took David on a date he figured was out of the ordinary for someone who described themselves as Helena Bonham Carter’s muse.

David had his number the second he got in Patrick’s car. “Well, I guess the lack of a sports coat indicates that this is going to be a more casual affair?” David was dressed fairly casually in black skinny jeans and a warm—looking black sweater, but he had looked about the same for their formal date. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Patrick’s cheek; Patrick got a whiff of his smoky cologne. 

Patrick grinned, leaning in a little. “Trust me, no fancy restaurants in sight today.”

“Wow, you really are a modern day Romeo,” David said, but he was smiling. 

“Hey, could be worse. I could have taken you hiking.”

David’s entire body shuddered. “It’s like you’re trying to make me not attracted to you.”

Patrick laughed as he drove them further away from the city. Once they approached their destination, it was easy to see where they were going; the ferris wheel could be seen from a mile off. “A carnival?” David asked.

“Is that okay?” Patrick asked. He was unusually nervous; his parents future on the line, he supposed. His unease only grew as David paused. 

Finally, David said, almost whispering, “You know, I always wanted to come to one when I was little? But my Mom said they were too gauche and made me go to Bill Gates’ recreational forest instead.”

Patrick laughed a little. “So. . .this is good then?”

David smiled and reached over, squeezing his shoulder. It was an awkward gesture in the car, but it still sent a shiver through Patrick. “It’s good. Really good, surprisingly.”

They walked into the fairgrounds, and David’s eyes lit up like a little kids’. “I figured you’d like all the food, and I can win you a teddy bear.” 

David bit his lip, holding in a smile. “That. . .would not be an unfair assumption.”

“Hah, _ fair. _I’ve lived with Ted too long; I’ve started finding puns really funny.”

“Yes,” David said, making a bee-line for a funnel cake stand. “Alexis has mentioned he likes puns. And has abs you could sharpen cheese on, apparently.”

“Uh, yeah, Ted’s good looking,” Patrick said, uncertain as to David’s sudden interest. But he lost his train of thought as he watched David cram half the funnel cake into his face. It probably should have been sexy, seeing how much David could put in his mouth, but Patrick was more amazed than anything. David swallowed. “Want some?” he asked, holding out the plate. 

From there, they walked around, stopping at the corn dog stand, the cotton candy stall, and the frozen lemonade cart. Patrick even got to eat some at the end, when David was hunched over, clutching his stomach. There was a pitching game, and Patrick slid a few tickets over, determined to make good on his promise to win David a bear. He racked up enough points to let David have his pick of the prices; Patrick pointed to a giant stuffed panda and handed it to David with a little bow. 

David raised his eyebrows. “You were . . .very competent at that.” 

Patrick laughed, blushing a little. “I used to play on my town’s rec league.” He hadn’t had enough time when his Mom got sick, and picking it up again had been low on his list of priorities. “I played center field, mostly, but I was a back-up pitcher occasionally.” David was nodding, a little too quickly, clutching his bear. “Pitcher was the only part of that sentence you heard, wasn’t it?”

“I was listening!” David protested. “You played the game the Yankees play. _ Pitching _was just the only part I understood.”

After that, they continued on, David holding onto his bear for dear life. They stopped at a few local craft stalls; David, unsurprisingly, had a discerning eye, and helped Patrick pick out a few things for his Mom. Patrick hadn’t told David about his Mom’s illness, nor did he intend to, but it wasn’t hard to figure out Patrick was close to his Mom regardless. They took a turn on bumper cars; David, perhaps more surprisingly, was incredibly competitive, and he and Patrick spent several rounds racing each other until the attendant started scowling at them. 

“I’m just saying, the bear obstructed my view!” David was arguing when he stopped, suddenly. Patrick followed his line of vision to see a darts game. “Do you want to try it?” Patrick finally asked, confused.

“Ew, _ no.” _David bit his lip. “But, I have exceptional aim, and you won me the bear, so it only seems right. . .”

Patrick felt a grin break out on his face. “David Rose, are you saying you want to try to win me a carnival toy?”

David rolled his eyes, but he inched toward the booth, sliding two tickets across the counter to the man behind the counter. 

David squinted and aimed carefully. Eventually, he pulled back his arm and threw the dart forward. Patrick was so distracted by the way the muscles bulged in his arm that he almost missed the carnie ducking, the dart flying where he had just been standing. It landed with a soft plink on the floor, nowhere near the target. 

“I thought you had exceptional aim?” 

David frowned. “These are shaped differently than Vicodin. I’ll get it this time,” he muttered, picking up another dart. it did land marginally closer to the target this time, but still missed. The carnie edged himself further into the corner. “Last one,” Patrick teased. 

“Mmm,” David hummed, too absorbed to tease back. This time, it hit the edge of the target. David grinned widely; it caught Patrick a little off guard, how nice he looked when he smiled. “Okay, I’m getting the hang of it! Another round.”

The carnie, looking down right terrified, shook his head. “Take what you want, man. Consider it a gift.”

David narrowed his eyes, but eventually pointed to a small bear in the corner. The carnie grabbed it, and as they walked away, David presented it to Patrick triumphantly.

“What, I didn’t merit the big bear?” he asked, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

David rolled his eyes, but Patrick could tell he was pleased with himself. “Please. Based on Alexis’s description of your apartment, a big bear wouldn’t even fit. Besides, I’m the type of person to have a big impractical teddy bear. You’d want something more mobile.”

“More mobile?” Patrick asked, delighted by David’s bizarre rationale.

David shrugged, looking down. “So you can carry it easily. You know, if you ever wanted to take it to work or something.”

Patrick grin fell into something softer. “Well I love it. I’m going to name him Sir Fluffington the third.”

After that, they drifted until Patrick was the one to stop. He took David’s side gently, turning him around. “Want to?”

“Oh,” said David, looking up at the ferris wheel. 

“Oh?” Patrick teased. “Such a resounding recommendation.”

“It’s just that, I don’t have the greatest past experiences with being on dates in high altitudes?”

“You don’t have to if you really don’t want to,” Patrick said, feeling a little bad for trying to guilt David into it.

“Well now I have to, because you’re marking me sound like a wimp.”

He could feel David shake, just a little, as the attendant pulled the safety bar down. The wheel creaked a little ominously as it started, and Patrick grabbed David’s hand and squeezed until it wasn’t trembling as badly. 

As they moved closer to the top, Patrick hummed. _ Treat him nice, _Mr. Rose’s voice rang in his head. “You know, in the movies, they always kiss at the top of the ferris wheel.”

“Oh?” David asked, turning towards him. He was smiling a little.

“And I know how you like your romantic movies.”

He could feel the scratch of David’s stubble as David leaned in. His face was warm, and Patrick’s mouth slipped open a little as David’s hand came up to cradle his head. Regardless of whether Patrick was on this date for the right reasons, or if David wasn’t the world’s nicest person, there was undeniable chemistry between them. David pressed closer as his tongue slipped in Patrick’s mouth; Patrick groaned, just a little, and he could feel David smile.

They were still locked together when the ride ended and the wheel attendant cleared his throat repeatedly. After that, Patrick figured they’d pissed off enough of the carnival workers, and moved to take David home.

~

When they pulled up outside of David’s building, he cleared his throat. “I, uh, I had a nice time tonight.”

“Me too, David.”

“Would you—” David stared down at the bear in his lap. “Would you like to come up for a drink?”

Patrick almost said _ yes _before common sense prevailed. “I’d, ah, I’d better get home.”

David’s face fell a little. He bit his lip. “I don't want to pressure you into anything, but normally people have already had sex with me at this point. But—if you’re not attracted to me—”

“—that’s not it!” Patrick protested, cutting him off, because not finding David attractive was the least of his problems. “I—” David looked at him, a little sad, like Patrick was to say _ actually that’s exactly my problem _any second. “I just want to take things slow. I’ve never, before. With a man.”

Even though it was the truth, Patrick was still embarrassed to say it out loud. He wasn’t ashamed that his great sexuality awakening had occurred right before his Mom had gotten sick, but it hadn’t left him a lot of time to explore. What would David, who probably had done things Patrick had never heard of, want with Patrick, whose sexual experiences included his ex-fiancee of fifteen years and a store brand dildo hidden under his mattress? 

“Oh,” David’s face shifted into something sympathetic. “Oh.”

“And I really want to; it’s just—“

“I know,” David assured, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder. “It's scary.” 

He hadn’t expected David to be _ kind _ about his confession, Patrick realized a little guiltily. He hadn’t expected David to try to force him or anything—Patrick knew he wasn’t a monster, but he’d expected David to whine about it, or judge Patrick for his lack of experience, at least lose a little interest. Instead, David was smiling softly, rubbing his shoulder.

“Um, but while we’re clarifying things,” Patrick said, feeling like he needed to return that kindness a little, “—you’re the only person I’m seeing right now. There’s no one else.” _ No else was paying me, _a nasty voice said in the back of his head.

David’s eyes were smiling. “Yeah, me too.”

“Are you sure?” he blurted out. 

David had stopped smiling; he pulled away. Patrick felt cold. “Well, unless Beyonce has dumped Jay Z—”

“It’s just—you’ve been asking about Ted a _ lot,” _ finally saying what had been on his mind all night _ , “ _and as far as I know he’s straight, but—”

“Oh, no. Oh God no.” David looked slightly nauseous. “No, not at all. I mean, he’s hot, but Alexis told me he said the words _ berry glad to meet you _to the bartender when he ordered a vodka cranberry, and my boner hasn’t died that fast the time I found out I was dating Paul Ryan’s scheduler. It’s just—Alexis would never say this out loud, but I think she actually really likes him, and I’m worried about her getting hurt—” He stopped and swallowed, looking like he hadn’t meant to admit that.

“You really care about her, huh.” Patrick was whispering now; he felt that if he talked too loudly, David would disappear. 

David shrugged, obviously trying to be nonchalant. “It’s just—our parents weren’t around a lot as kids? So I was worried about her. Not that I would ever tell her that.”

“Of course. Got that big brother reputation to maintain.”

David cleared his throat and looked away, clearly done with the emotionally vulnerable part of the evening. He opened the door, but didn’t get out quite yet. “Um, maybe I could plan the next date?”

“I’d like that, David. Just let me know.” David nodded and finally slid out of the car.

“Goodnight, David.” Patrick found himself smiling as he watched walk into the building. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the references to past illness tag applies especially to this chapter! I am very much a Patrick rather than a David when it comes to art, so David's gallery is modeled off of this real world gallery:. http://www.barthacontemporary.com/artist/frank-gerritz/

Patrick wasn’t totally sure what to expect from the date David had assured Patrick he would plan.Patrick had been sure to lay down a few ground rules: nothing too expensive, no drugs, and preferably something that didn’t revolve around drinking._How are we supposed to have fun, then? _David had texted._I have faith _Patrick responded, mostly sure David was kidding.

When he picked David up—David, he’d been informed, didn’t drive himself much, which Patrick chalked up to a combination of severe anxiety and being rich enough to have a regular driver—it was earlier than he expected, the sun still high in the sky.David was dressed casually in a soft-looking sweater and leggings.“Where to, Mr. Wooster?”

David rolled his eyes, but connected his phone to Patrick’s Bluetooth.David had his GPS set to an Italian woman’s voice; in between the directions, the speakers played a rolling list of diva greatest hits.David hummed along under his breath; he didn’t have the greatest pitch, Patrick sensed, but he didn’t seem to be embarrassed about it. 

“I love this song,” David said to a Whitney Houston number, as if it wasn’t his playlist and he didn’t love every song. 

“Really, I’m shocked,” Patrick teased.“I figured you more of a classical music fan.”

David rolled his eyes.“I’ll have you know, I like all genres of music, including, yes, classical.I actually play piano, you know.”  


“Really?” Patrick asked, actually surprised.

“Okay, you don’t have to seem quite so amazed I can play chopsticks,” David said.“I’ll have you know my mother is good friends with several famous pianists.I learned a lot growing up.”

“You and your mom are close?”The tabloids hadn’t said much about David and Moira, but she’d been concerned about him enough to concoct this whole scheme.

David shrugged.“She and I are a lot alike, for better or worse.”He said it nonchalantly, but Patrick could see his shoulders tense.“You’re obviously a Momma’s boy,” he said, changing the subject. 

“Yeah,” Patrick said, laughing at how obvious it was.“I’m really close to my parents.I’d do anything for them, you know?”He swallowed, a little—sitting next to David, he was reminded just how true that sentiment was.

Italian Siri chirped that they’d arrived at their destination.Patrick pulled into a gravel road, a decrepit fence in the distance in the only sign of life; he wondered, again, if he’d walked himself into some elaborate serial killer plot.But then he saw a bunch of cars parked in a lot to the right, and a sign proclaiming _Flea Market!One of a Kind!Vintage! _ He looked at David, surprised.“Didn’t think this kinda thing was on brand on you.”

David huffed.“Just because I can buy new things doesn’t mean new is always best.I mean, it does, obviously, for skincare and shoes and ecstasy, but there’s a lot of furniture here that is worth a lot more than the yahoos are selling it for.” 

The sun was warm on Patrick’s back, and he tugged on his button down a little, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead.David strode ahead purposely, clearly on a mission; his heavy dark sweater apparently wasn’t bothering him in the slightest.He bickered with a man selling handmade quilts until he was down to half price; and argued with a woman selling lamps until she was red in the face.David was ruthless, and Patrick hated that he found as attractive as he did.There was a stand selling homemade candles, and David stopped, carefully inspecting every scent.He asked the lady behind the stall pointed questions that Patrick could barely follow, but her answers seemingly satisfied David, because he pulled two apart to buy.He turned to Patrick.“What’s your Mom’s signature scent?”

“Uh.”

David rolled his eyes.“God, you’re helpless.What kind of smells does she like?”

“Um, she cleans with a lot of lemon-scented stuff?Oh!” he said, inspiration striking.“My dad buys her this perfume every year for their anniversary.It’s . . .floral?”

David sighed, but pulled two smaller candles toward his pile.“These are general enough that they’ll appeal to a lot of people, and small enough she won’t be stuck with them long if they’re not her taste.”He handed over a wad of cash as the woman started bagging them.

“You’re. . .buying my Mom candles?”

“No, _you _are, Momma’s boy.I mean, I’ll finance them, because I want that buy one get one deal, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate something nice from her son.”

“That’s. . . really sweet.Thank you, David.I’m sure she’ll love them.”David looked away, a little embarrassed at the praise, so Patrick piled on.“You’re good at this.”

David laughed.“What, shopping?”

“I mean, yes,” Patrick couldn’t help but tease.“But also knowing what’s worth buying and how to negotiate for it.”

“It’s not that different from the Gallery, honestly.But there’s a lot of good locally-made products.You just have to know how to hunt.”David waved a hand.“I’ve thought about trying to maybe open a store—sell stuff like that under a unified brand, promote local artists—but with the Gallery, I haven’t had the time.”

“It’s actually a really good idea,” Patrick said, thinking it through.There were a lot of big chains like the Cheek Boutique around, but nothing that really screamed _local._It could be profitable, too, assuming they could get stuff close to cost, which David, ruthless negotiator that he was, would probably be able to do.

“You don’t have to act so shocked,” David said, but Patrick could tell he was pleased.

They wondered around a little more, laden with David’s purchases.At one point, Patrick considered buying a rodeo-style belt buckle, and David pretended to swoon in fright.Eventually, there was a mirror David saw that he liked.David argued with the salesman until Patrick was afraid the seller was going to start throwing punches, but somehow David walked away with it at the price he wanted. 

“Do you mind dropping me off at the gallery?,” David said, watching as Patrick staggered with the mirror back towards the car.David was helpfully carrying a scarf and the two smaller candles he’d bought Marcy.“It’s going to have to be cleaned, and I have the supplies I need there.”

“Sure,” Patrick grunted, trying not to collapse.

They stopped for pizza and a subsequent debate on the faults of pineapple and cheese, and then headed to the gallery.It was closed on Sundays, David explained, so they had the place to themselves.When Patrick finally wrestled the mirror to where David wanted it, he stood back, taking in the small space David had built.Everything matched the image David presented; sleek, clean lines in gleaming black and silver.Most of the paintings were black and white, stark against the white walls.Patrick walked among them, trying to see what David saw that made him so passionate about art.He stopped in front of one; no matter how hard he stared at it, it remained a literal [black box](http://www.barthacontemporary.com/work/kleiner-tranenpalast/).

“What do you think?” David said, coming up behind him.

“It’s, um.Pretty?” Patrick asked uncertainly.

Rather than rolling his eyes at Patrick’s lack of taste like he normally would, David laughed, smiling fondly at the painting.“Look at it more closely; there’s a lot going on beneath the surface.You can’t just take a black paintbrush and get that look.It’s deceptively complex.” 

After a beat, David said definitively, “It demands you acknowledge that it takes up space.”

If Patrick were honest, it still just looked like a black box.But hearing the way David talked about it, he wanted to see what David saw. 

~

Time passed more quickly than Patrick realized.He and David fell into a routine of dinner a few times a week and Saturdays trading off who planned their day.Patrick made David go to a baseball game, and in return, Patrick was drug to socialite cocktail parties across the city.During this time, Patrick only walked in on Ted and Alexis twice, but if he hadn’t been gay already, what he saw would have caused Patrick to swear off heterosexual sex forever. 

A little voice in the back of Patrick’s head kept saying that he needed to let David down gently and get the rest of his paycheck.He steadily ignored it.David would only appreciate future nice people he dated the more time he spent with Patrick, he reasoned. 

It wasn’t until Patrick was already in his sweatpants one Friday night that he realized he and David were supposed to go to some futuristic opera that night.He sighed, collapsing onto the couch.Work had been terrible, rivaling his worst days at the Cheek Boutique, and he’d lost the bid on the contract he’d been pursuing for his free lancing business.But Patrick knew the real reason he was in a bad mood was that his Mom had gone to her follow up CT scan today to make sure she was still cancer free.They wouldn’t know the results for a few days, but there was still a knot in Patrick’s stomach.The last thing he wanted to do was go schmooze with David’s pretentious art friends.

But Patrick thought about how less stressed his parents would be without the debt hanging over their heads, and started considering what David would think was an acceptable shirt.The Brewers had a strong work ethic. 

Patrick hadn’t even changed when David arrived, looking sharp as always in a white button down with abstract black patterns, and pants that looked practically painted on.He was ranting about a hideous coat someone had been wearing as he entered, but he stopped mid-sentence, looking at Patrick.“Are you—are you okay?”

Patrick shook his head, trying to rally.“Just—long day, is all.You ready?”

David stared for a minute longer before taking off his jacket and folding it neatly on a bar stool.“C’mon.Let’s stay in tonight.I believe I promised to show you the wonders of The Holiday.”

“But—you had tickets for that show tonight,” Patrick argued, feeling guilty.

David looked like he couldn’t care less.“It’ll be there tomorrow night.Besides, I don’t think I can hear about Daisy Romero’s engagement story one more time.”He took out his his phone, jabbing at it for a second before putting it down and smiling.“There.I made dinner.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow.“Pizza?”

“Oh ye of little faith.I ordered Chinese.”

After dinner, feeling full and sleepy from all the MSG and saccharine Cameron Diaz lines, David sat with his back to the arm of the couch, positioning Patrick on the cushion in front of him.Patrick wasn’t entirely sure what was happening until he felt David’s thumbs sink into his neck.

“God you’re tense,” David muttered, digging into Patrick’s shoulder blade.He was silent, and Patrick was half asleep before David said, silently,“You don’t have to tell me.But—if you wanted to, I’d listen.”

Patrick took a deep breath, trying to tamp down on the emotions rising through him.He failed. 

“My Mom had cancer,” he said.David’s hands stilled, and then started rubbing Patrick’s shoulders reassuringly.“She’s better now, but she had a follow up scan today.To make sure it hasn’t come back.” 

David’s hand was gentle on his arm, but he maneuvered Patrick again, until he was leaning into Patrick’s chest.David hummed softly, and Patrick couldn’t stop talking.“She says she’s fine, but—that’s what she said before, and then two weeks later she having to go to chemo and radiation and losing her hair and having surgery. David’s arm slid up and down his back, soothing.Patrick was starting to cry, a little.“I was so scared, and I couldn’t do anything for her.”

He hadn’t told anyone this.He didn’t want his parents to feel guilty, and Ted was always so stressed with trying to run his fledgling practice that he didn’t need Patrick’s histrionics too.Patrick had always intended to see a therapist, but he’d been working so much he hadn’t been able to make the time.

David pressed a soft kiss to his head, and for a few minutes, Patrick stayed leaning against him, crying silently. 

“Will you stay tonight?” Patrick said.It wasn’t his most brilliant idea ever, but Ted was with Alexis, and Patrick realized he really didn’t want to be alone.“I mean, if you want too—I didn’t mean—”

David smiled, softer than Patrick had ever seen him.“I’d love to stay.” 

“I just meant to sleep,” Patrick felt the need to clarify.“I’m still not ready, for.That.”

David patted him on the head, rolling his eyes.“Please, you think I’d sleep with someone for the first time right after an entire carton of shrimp fried rice?I know my standards aren’t the highest, but I do have some.”

Eventually, David pushed him towards the bathroom.Patrick shut the door and stared at the mirror.“What the fuck am I doing?” he asked his reflection. He'd never felt further from the confident, assured person he normally was. 

When he finally left, having had enough of feeling sorry for himself, the food was put away, and David had changed into the clothes Patrick had left for him.“Hmm, however are you supposed to resist me while I’m wearing these?” David teased.“We might have to sleep head to toe.”

“I’ll have you know, those are my formal pajamas,” Patrick said, but.David wasn’t entirely wrong.The sight of him in Patrick’s beat up old field day shirt might have been more of a problem if Patrick wasn’t so emotionally exhausted.

Sliding into the bed was more awkward than the first time they’d done this; neither of them were drunk, this time.They stared at each other in the dark.“Turn over,” David finally said. “Nothing is better than a nice spoon when you’re upset.”

Had anyone ever done this for David? Patrick was supposed to be getting paid to treat David nice, not the other way around.“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” David asked curiously, squeezing his arms around Patrick tighter.

_For you not getting your money’s worth, _he thought.Instead he said, “You had plans for the night, and instead it turned into babying me.”

David hesitated a little, silent.“I—not that I would know, but I think that’s what you’re supposed to do when you care about someone?I’d rather be here making you feel better than alone at a fancy party.”

“Thank you, David,” Patrick said, squeezing his hand.It was awhile before Patrick finally fell asleep, David’s gentle snores on his neck.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note for David's terrible exes. Thank you all for your wonderful comments! They mean so much.

When Patrick woke up, David was still snoring, louder than was probably healthy.Patrick’s worn-thin, too-small shirt was pulling at his shoulders, and it had risen to reveal the trail of his hair on his stomach.

Patrick went to take a very long shower and did his best to remind himself that his first gay sexual experience was not going to be with a rich egotist Patrick was being paid to date.

When he re-emerged, clean and marginally more relaxed, David was still asleep, so he moved to the kitchen to start breakfast as a _sorry I snotted on your very expensive sweater _apology gift.He made a mental note to email Gwen and ask her if dry cleaning was a reimbursable expense. 

Instead of David strolling into the kitchen, though, Ted appeared, summoned by the smell of coffee.Patrick reached back into the fridge and started heating up some soysage for him.Saturdays were the one day that both Ted and Patrick were off.They got to see each other less than Patrick would like; they both worked long hours, and now that the Rose siblings had entered the picture, they were home even less.

“Thanks, man!” Ted smiled when Patrick handed a plate over.God, Ted was so unnaturally happy in the morning—David would hate that.Patrick sent a small prayer that he stayed asleep until Ted went to teach orphaned kittens to read or whatever it was he did in his free time. 

Unfortunately, Patrick’s luck ran out.David, yawning, shuffled into the kitchen, ignoring both Patrick and Ted in lieu of heading to the coffee machine.“Mug,” he said, sounding confused.“I need mug.”

“Here,” said Patrick, grinning a little as he pressed a cup of coffee into David’s hands.They didn’t have anything remotely resembling caramel or cocoa powder, so Patrick had dumped about half of a battle of honey in and hoped for the best. 

Behind David, Ted’s eyes had gone comically wide, staring at David.Patrick rolled his eyes back, David completely oblivious to the silent conversation happening around him.Ted began _grinning _maniacally, and silently said something which Patrick was pretty sure, to his horror, was supposed to be _Sarah Jessica Parker._

_“_You must be David!” Ted said, as if he didn’t know who exactly who he was.He stepped around the counter, holding out his hand.David stared at it bemusedly.“I’m Ted.Patrick’s roommate.” 

“Ah,” said David, the caffeine clearly kicking in a little.“You’re. . .friends with my sister.”His shovel overture wasn’t as blunt as Alexis’s had been, but David was glaring enough that the point got across.Patrick tried and failed to not find it attractive.

Ted, whether he was genuinely oblivious or just too chipper to care, said “That’s right!Actually, she and I were talking; we should all go on a double date.”

Patrick sputtered on the tea he was drinking.Somehow, he doubted Alexis had said anything remotely similar to that.“Did she,” David asked drily, clearly thinking along the same lines.

Ted nodded.“Why don’t we have game night tomorrow?”

“Game night,” David repeated. 

“We’ve got plans, Ted, but thanks—”Patrick started.Surely there was some art event David would expect to hob nob at.

“Actually, sounds fun,” David said, cutting him off.Patrick looked at him in surprise.David shrugged.“What?I like board games.They have very clearly defined rules.”

“Great!” Ted practically shouted.Patrick stared and swallowed.“Okay,” he finally said, because he couldn’t think of a reason not to.

~

Once David left—he’d stayed long enough to eat all of his breakfast and half of Ted’s soysage—Patrick whirled on his roommate.“What the fuck, man?”

Ted shrugged.“Sorry I’m just trying to help you out with your job!”He said _job _like someone might say _dream of becoming a Disney princess. _

_“_Ted,” Patrick said.

“Fine,” Ted said, holding his hands up.“I’m just saying—maybe you’re drawing this out and planning all these elaborate dates not because you’re really going for employee of the year, but because you actually like him?”

“I do like him; I told you that,” Patrick said, exasperated.“He’s a good guy.”

“I mean, _like him _like him.Patrick and David, sitting in a tree—”

“David?” Patrick said.“Please.He’s super dramatic, and loves to argue, and _so _particular—”

“None of that was a no,” Ted pointed out.“And plus, you two did—” here, Ted did a horrifying gesture with his hands “—last night.”

“No, we didn’t,” Patrick argued.“I was just having a bad day yesterday so he was doting on me a little.”

“Right, because nothing says platonic like someone holding you while you cry.”

Patrick rolled his eyes.“I’d hold you if you cried.” 

Ted raised an eyebrow.“In your bed?”

“That’s not—”Patrick sputtered, trying to figure out how to convey just how wrong Ted was.

Ted grinned and booped him on the nose, walking out before Patrick could shake off his shock at the gesture and respond.

~

Patrick found himself changing twice in advance of the Roses coming over; he was a little nervous, trying to figure out how to project the image of _loving boyfriend _to David (and to Alexis, who would no doubt be watching like a sparkly hawk), while also projecting consummate professional to Ted.

_I bet you’d like to consummate _Ted’s voice said in the back of his mind.Patrick screamed a little and put on another blue sweater. 

When the Roses arrived, Alexis strode in first confidently, taking Ted in her arms and dipping him like a WW2 sailor returning from war.David made a faint gagging sound; Patrick looked in his direction to see Stevie trailing in after.Patrick raised an eyebrow as David pulled him aside.“I couldn’t leave her,” he said frantically, “she just got dumped by this guy she was seeing, and she was starting to be a little _too_ sad.I was afraid if I left her alone for too long I’d come back to her as a bleach blonde who was trying to make it big on Broadway.”

Thankfully, Ted had games that were conducive to odd numbered groups—UNO and Cards Against Humanity, mostly.Alexis was surprisingly brutal; by the time they finished the last game of Uno; the rest of them were nearly plastered from taking loser’s shots while she was pretty much still sober. Ted, who was both a lightweight and very bad at card games, was singing a very nice serenade of what Patrick thought was supposed to be Firework at the plant behind Alexis.Stevie was quieter than normal—they’d hung out a few times with David since that first night, so Patrick knew she was usually more chatty—but she seemed to be cheering up as the night went on. 

Ted and Alexis disappeared into Ted’s room soon after, and Patrick resolutely turned the music up until no sound would possibly make it out.David mouthed a silent _thank you _and started puttering around, picking up everyone’s glasses and the discarded snack trays and ferrying them into the kitchen.

“David’s voluntarily doing dishes?” Stevie said loudly.“Did you give him a lobotomy?” 

“Ha-ha,” David shouted over the music and the running water.“I’ll have you know I’ve always been a polite houseguest; I’ve just never done this at your apartment because the only thing in your kitchen is Hot Pockets and Twinkies.”

Stevie snorted a little as she and Patrick started picking up the games to put away.She paused, looking down, and Patrick wondered if she were reminiscing about Emir.Instead, she said quietly, “You’re good for him.”Patrick knew it was heartbreak and Tito’s bringing out the honesty, but he also had no doubt she meant it; despite her best efforts, it was obvious how much she cared about David. 

“Am I though?” he asked.He meant it to sound sarcastic, but the alcohol was hitting him too, and it came out more as strangled. 

She shrugged, gesturing to David in the kitchen.“I have spoons for ice cream in my apartment; he’s never washed those.”

~

He called his Mom the next night for their weekly chat.It was a ritual; they’d started when Patrick had been in college, watching the Amazing Race together over the phone.They’d kept up the routine all through her illness, and when Patrick hadn’t been able to make the drive to his parents, the calls had been the only thing keeping Patrick sane.

They made polite small talk for a minute, and then Marcy hummed, clearly dancing around something.Finally, she said, “I accidentally called the apartment the other day instead of your cell, and Ted picked up.He’s such a sweet young man.”

“Yeah, Ted’s cool,” Patrick responded, uneasy. 

“He mentioned he’d been seeing someone,” and, oh god, Patrick knew what was coming, “and that you were dating her brother?”

Great.Besides being a meddling asshole, Ted was also a total pushover when it came to Marcy—not that Patrick wasn’t, but Cheryl Mullens couldn’t cook to save her life, so Ted was easily bribed with casseroles and sweets.“Um, yeah,” Patrick finally said.He thought he’d feel less awkward about his parents sniffing around his dating life after he’d come out to them—after all, he wasn’t trying to hide anymore, but nope, having his Mom ask about his romantic life was still awkward as fuck.“It’s still pretty casual.”

“Ted said you seemed smitten with him, though.”Which, seriously, what the fuck Ted? Now he was gossiping with Patrick’s Mom?

“It’s casual, Mom,” he repeated.

“I got your candle by the way. It was very nice.”Patrick thought she was in the clear until she continued,“I’m assuming David helped pick it out?”

“You don’t think I could buy you a candle?”

“Patrick,” she said gently, “you can’t even _say _verbena.” 

Thankfully, she dropped the subject after that, and they watched their way through Wheel of Fortune.Marcy told him about Clint’s attempt at assembling a puzzle (_Your father has always been color blind and won’t admit it); _how Jack Broudon’s son had set off his fire alarm cooking rice, and how her cousin Jim had broken up with is girlfriend in the middle of Olive Garden.

“You know, speaking of Jim, we have Aunt Linda’s birthday next weekend.You could bring him along.”

He didn’t have to ask who Marcy meant by _him._“I’ll see if he can,” Patrick responded, knowing he would do no such thing.

~

Patrick’s resolve to keep his life and David firmly separate collapsed three days later.David had drug him to some art party.It wasn’t exactly Patrick’s scene—and he was beginning to think it wasn’t exactly _David’s _scene, the way he winced and took a sip of his overpriced whiskey every time he managed to escape a conversation—but Patrick understood networking and knew this was important for David’s galleries. 

But Patrick was happy to play along until David stiffened imperceptibly. It didn’t take long for Patrick to figure out why—there was a woman, sharply dressed, staring at him along the way, smiling like a shark.“Friend of yours?” Patrick asked.

“Ex,” David muttered.“Not a good one.”Given the fact that David’s parents were literally paying Patrick to help David get over his past relationships, the fact that David considered this ex particularly bad didn’t bide well.

She moved through the crowd with ease, everyone instinctually parting for her.She was wearing pumps so high she was easily taller than Patrick, but walked in them as if they were slippers. 

“David Rose,” she purred. “Haven’t seen you since you left Victoria Beckham’s masquerade throwing your guts up like a sorority girl.”

“You gave me a bellini, Christina,” David said quietly.Patrick had never seen him look so small. 

“Oh, right, your ‘allergies,’” she moved her fingers in air quotes, rolling her eyes.“You could never hold your liquor.”

David shrunk on himself a little more, and Patrick couldn’t help but muscle in front of him.“I think you should leave,” he said to Christina. 

Her eyes flickered over Patrick as if she were seeing him for the first time.“Oh sweetheart,” she said, simpering, “don’t stress over David so much.He’s not worth it.”The last line, she stared right at David.

“You think it’s okay to talk to him—to talk to _people_ like that?”Patrick sputtered.His face was beginning to get hot; how _dare _she. 

She smiled at him pityingly.“Just wait, honey.You’ll figure out how boring he is once he stopssucking your cock.”

She whirled away, already laughing and waving to someone else.Patrick couldn’t even feel a sense of relief, since she clearly hadn’t left because of anything Patrick had done.

David managed to smile and schmooze with others in the crowd for the rest of the night, but Patrick could see that, underneath his bravado, David was still upset.He demurred an invitation to an afterparty, and Patrick followed him quietly as he walked outside to Patrick’s car. 

When they where in the car, Patrick paused, hands on the keys.“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said David, sniffing quietly.Patrick turned to look at him, and David looked out the window. 

“David.”

David kept his head turned.“She just—she’s one of those people that really you know how to poke at your biggest insecurities, ya know?”

“David—”Patrick swallowed.“You’re worth being cared for.You’re a good person.You deserve to be happy.” 

Patrick was surprised by just how much he meant it—he wasn’t just saying it because he’d been paid to.David was dramatic, and loved to argue—but he’d also held Patrick as he’d cried about his sick mom, and brought a broken-hearted Stevie to game night, and let slip more than one horrifying story of plights he’d rescued Alexis from.David _was _a good person.

David sniffed and turned back to Patrick.His eyes were red, but he was smiling a little.This was Patrick’s chance; he could set the ground for _you deserve someone nice whether it’s me or someone else._All he had to do was say it; he could plant that final seed and then gently extricate himself from David’s life, knowing that he’d helped his parents and David.

Patrick opened his mouth to say exactly that.“Come with me to my parents this weekend.”

“What?”David stared in shock, and Patrick was a little shocked as well, because that was anything but extricating himself from David’s life.

“It’s my aunt’s birthday, and my Mom’s six months out from chemo, so they’re having a little celebration.”

“Oh—okay, if you’re sure,” David said quietly.One side of his mouth was curved, like he was trying not to smile now.

“I’m sure.”

Which—the only thing Patrick was sure of was that he’d fucked up things royally.He thought that the entire time as he dropped David off and headed back to the apartment.

When he walked in, Ted was laying on the couch, an ice pack resting on both knees.Part of his left eyebrow was missing.He looked at Patrick, craning his neck in a ridiculous position so that his body didn’t move.“Okay, I lost twelve percent of my body weight tonight—why do you look like you did too?”

He sat down heavily in the chair.“Ted, what am I doing?”

“Well, I’m guessing the answer is less in the realm of bringing me a bottle of water, and more somewhere along the lines of an existential crisis?”Ted sat up, grimacing.“What happened?”

Patrick spilled the whole story—Christina and the talk and _inviting David home._By the end, he was he gesticulating wildly, a habit, he realized half hysterically, he’d learned from David.

“So,” Ted started carefully, “I don’t want to be a broken record, but it sounds like you weren’t just mad at his ex; you were jealous.”

“No, that’s not—”He dropped his head into his hands with a thud, thinking about how angry he’d been at Christina.He’d be just as mad if a douchebag ex of Ted’s had shown up, right?

“Fuck,” Patrick said.

Ted leaned forward, wincing a little as he put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder.“Patrick.You need to come clean, man.If you want to give this a real chance.Also? Alexis is surprisingly sweet underneath the mind blowing sex we’re having, and I’m not gonna blow your cover, but I’m starting to feel really shitty lying to her.”

“So it’s getting serious with Alexis?”  


Ted looked at the ground, blushing.“After game night—we just talked and cuddled all night.” He shifted to a smirk.“Which, in case you didn’t catch it, is a very romantic moment.”

Patrick swallowed.Okay.So—maybe, _maybe _he had feelings for David.That was probably. . .not great, given that at some point he was expected to break up with David.Patrick took a deep breath.First things first, he just needed to get through a weekend at his parents, and then he’d figure out what the fuck to do. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me, the person who should be studying for finals instead! I have a rough draft of the last chapter done, so it'll be up either Wednesday or Thursday, depending on how badly this health law exam goes. 
> 
> Content note for internalized homophobia.

“Snickers?”

“Check.”

“Trail mix?”

“Check.”

“Pringles?”

“Check.Hey, uh—where are the Cheetos I put in here?”

David glared.“Patrick, this is a Givenchy sweater.I’m not risking orange fake cheese dust around it.”

Patrick stared.“You ate them, didn’t you?”

David shoved his sunglasses up his nose.“How I got rid of them is beside the point.”

Somehow, Patrick was actually doing this.The car was full of gas, snacks, and David’s designer luggage (“We could just fly, Patrick; I _told_ you I could borrow Sam Smith’s private jet—”.All Patrick had to do was drive to his parents house and introduce them to his fake boyfriend he was beginning to have real feelings for.

Here went nothing.

~

Despite it being closer to noon than sunrise, David fell asleep almost as soon as Patrick pulled out of the driveway; he suspected there had been some sort of medicinal intervention at play.It was a little over two hours to the small suburb Patrick had grown up in, and he’d done the drive so many times when his Mom had been in chemo that Patrick could pretty much do it blindfolded.Which meant that Patrick had two hours set to the tune of David’s snores to overthink himself into a crisis. 

Patrick had spent the last few days so focused on reconciling that he actually _liked_ David with the fact that he was being paid to date David, that he hadn’t even thought to be worried about his parents meeting David.His family seemed okay with the idea that he was gay, but up until now it had been entirely theoretical.Now, he was bringing home an Actual Man he was dating.At some point, he’d probably kiss David on the cheek or hold his hand or some other shocking display of PDA that might give his grandma the vapors, and then Patrick would be dealing with the _I’m in a terrible knock off of Pretty Woman _situation and a _my family is Not Okay with the Gay situation. _

Even besides being a man, David was.. .well, David was David.He had a very forceful personality, and he wasn’t good about hiding his feelings about things he disliked, which was a lot of things.He knew Uncle Jack would probably bring his horrible spinach dip, and with both Clint and Marcy’s entire families in attendance, David could end up lighting the match for the Brewer-Parker war that had been brewing for years. 

But, Patrick realized, that brazenness was what drew him to David.Although his relationship with Rachel had obviously been wrong on a number of levels, Patrick had stayed with her for so long in part because they really got along.Rachel hadn’t been afraid to call him on his bullshit, but he knew at the end of the day, she’d always had his back.Spending time with David, now that he really looked at it, didn’t feel all that different.Only he also wanted to tear off David’s pants.

David woke up about twenty minutes outside of town, and spent the rest of the drive checking his hair in the rearview mirror and quizzing Patrick about all of his family.Patrick didn’t think he was totally following—David was going to forget whether it was Aunt Alex or Uncle Alex who’d just won the adult kickball tournament—but the fact that he was trying was sweet.

When they pulled into the Brewer’s driveway, Patrick felt the nerves he’d finally squished down come back in full force.David looked about the same.There was a flutter of a blind slamming in the front window, and, before Patrick could fully get out of the car, his Mom was bounding down the steps, arms open.

She looked good.With David entering his life, Patrick realized somewhat shamefully he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, even though they talked on the phone often.Her hair was growing out into soft waves, and she’d begun to put a little weight back on.He couldn’t help but tear up a little bit as she threw her arms around him.“Hi, Mom.”

She pulled away, smiling.“It’s so good to see you.And you!”She turned, holding her arms out to David.“You must be David.” 

David hesitated; he wasn’t, Patrick knew, big on physical affection with strangers.But he hesitantly stepped into her arms, and she squeezed him just as tightly as she had Patrick.“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too, Mrs. Brewer,” David said, clearly a little taken aback.Moira Rose didn’t strike Patrick as the biggest hugger.“I, um, I brought you some soap from this local artist I like.”

“Oh, if it’s as nice as the candle, I’m sure it’ll be lovely,” she crowed, ushering them inside. 

“Mom,” Patrick said, struggling with all the bags he’d been left to carry, “I told you, _I _picked it out—”

“Sure you did,” Marcy called back as David smiled at him over her shoulder. 

~

The afternoon only got more chaotic from there.Clint came home not long after Patrick and David had arrived, arms laden with enough hot dogs and hamburgers to feed an army.He didn’t nearly strangle David like Marcy, but Patrick was relieved to see his Dad seemed genuinely pleased to meet David.Then all of Marcy and Clint’s family started to arrive, and Patrick lost sight of David.

He was in the middle of half-listening to Cousin Jackie’s story about her trip to Minneapolis when he caught sight of David again.He was talking to Aunt Linda, who had acquired a birthday sash from somewhere, hands waving animatedly.She was smiling, and at one point, she threw her head back and laughed, hand settling on David’s shoulder.David winced briefly—Patrick was sure he wanted his sweater nowhere near Aunt Linda’s cigarette aroma—but covered it up before she saw. 

Jackie caught where he was looking and nudged him on the arm, smiling.“I like your boy.”And besides the horrifying phrasing of _your boy, _Jackie was the _sixth _person who had come up to tell him how lovely David was.Patrick thought it was a combination of things: the family trying to show Patrick that _no, _they really didn’t care if he was gay, and the general supportiveness when someone other than Aunt Ethel brought around a new partner.But also part of it was just David; Patrick had gotten so used to poking and prodding David that he’d forgotten David spent the rest of his life as a socialite.He’d been smiling plastically all night and charming the pants off of Patrick’s relatives, and all Patrick desperately wanted him to do was tell cousin Jim he needed to burn his crocs. 

By the time the party was winding down, David had somehow ended up slow dancing with his Mom.David was more in his element, leading easily to the slow music, and Patrick’s heart skipped a beat as he approached them.“Can I cut in?” he asked.

David stepped back.“Let your Mom lead, though; she’s a much better dancer than you.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow.“I meant dance with you.”

“Mm,” David hummed, shaking his head.“You should spend some time with your Mom.Also, apparently there’s homemade chocolate ice cream somewhere. . .?”

Marcy laughed as Patrick took her hands.“I always hide a secret stash in the freezer for later.”

“You’re an angel,” David called as he walked off.

Patrick let the music wash over him, thankful that his Mom was here to dance with him.She looked a little tired around the eyes, but she was standing strong, smiling at him.“David seems nice.”

“Mm.I’ve heard that a lot tonight.I’m glad everyone likes him.”

Marcy smiled a little more sadly, squeezing his hand.“Patrick, I know you were probably nervous for this weekend, but believe me when I say everyone here wants nothing more than for you to be happy.”

He swallowed.Everyone in his life wanted him to be happy; Patrick was the only thing standing in his way. 

~

That night, in his childhood bed, Patrick stared at David.(_Aunt Linda had a little too much to drink, _Marcy said with a wink that would haunt Patrick’s dreams until he died, _so she’ll be taking the guest room)._“Thanks for putting up with my family tonight,” he said.“I know they can be intense.”

David was nodding off, but he frowned a little, shaking his head.“No, they’re lovely.But, uh, hey—at one point, your Mom said something about having to cancel a cruise?”

“Yeah, they had one planned for their anniversary, but just, you know.Money’s tight right now.”David frowned, as if the idea was foreign to him.Patrick supposed it was. 

David bit his lip.“Maybe I could ask my parents—”

He reached across the small space between them, grabbing David’s shoulder.“Hey, no, don’t worry about that.I’m the accountant, remember?I’ve got it all figured out.”

If David noticed the hitch in Patrick’s voice, he didn’t say anything about it.“Wait until you meet my parents,” David said instead, yawning.“They’re insane.”He said it as if it was a given that Patrick would meet them at some point.

Patrick winced.“Yeah, David, about that—”

David’s snore cut him off. 

~

His Mom kept smiling at him the next morning at breakfast, thinking she was being sly—every time she did, Patrick could feel himself blushing. 

It was his Dad that surprised him, though.Clint Brewer had never had any qualms about showing emotion or affection, but all things considered he was a pretty even keel person who didn’t react strongly to things other than Marcy’s apple pie.But while Mom was trying and failing to teach David how to flip a pancake, his Dad took Patrick by the shoulder and pulled him back into the foyer. 

“Patrick,” he started, and an anxious voice in Patrick’s head said _he’s disappointed in you, _“I just wanted to say—I’m so happy for you.I always thought you weren’t overly affectionate with Rachel because you were that kind of person, but I see now I was wrong. I’m so glad you found David and that he makes you so happy.He seems like a really great guy, although I think you’re going to have to be in charge of the cooking.”

Patrick swallowed, his eyes stinging a little.There were so many things he wanted to say—_I love you, _and _thanks for not being disgusted by me, _and _he does make me so, so happy, _and _I’m lying to him and he doesn’t know._But he couldn’t say any of that without breaking into hysterics and alerting David and his Mom, so instead he said, “I’m okay with that.He’s really good at dishes.”

~

David stayed awake on the drive back.Patrick thought of a thousand ways to start the conversation: _There’s something you should know. I haven’t been completely honest. I need to explain a couple of things._He thought about his parent’s canceled vacation.He thought aboutthe way David had smiled at him as he danced with his Mom.

As David waxed poetic about the underrated nature of JoJo, Patrick stayed silent.

~

One week went by.Then two.

~

He received a perfunctory message from Gwen summoning him to the Roses’s mansion while David would be attending some fundraiser.He showed up in the nicest jacket he owned (_Um, it’s JCPenney, _David’s voice in his head said, _Is that something we would call nice?)_.The same butler from the night of the party when this whole craziness had started let him in, and he seemed just as unimpressed by Patrick the second time. 

Mr. and Mrs. Rose were waiting inside.Mrs. Rose blew an air kiss.She was wearing something that could only be described as a goth Christmas tree, and Patrick felt hysterical laughter bubble up in his chest as they led him to a table like he was on his way to his execution.

“Nice weather, isn’t it?”Mr. Rose laughed nervously, wringing his hands. 

Mrs. Rose looked at him fondly and took over.“Dearest Patrick, we just wanted to check in on the . . .status of your entanglement with our son.”

“Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Patrick started.

“Because your service is predicated on you untangling yourself from David so that he can find a healthy relationship.Which is difficult to do as you are still presently enmeshed.”

“Actually, the thing is, Mrs. Rose—”

“Although we certainly have gotten a generous return on our investment,” Moira said.“David has been quite joyous since he started dating you.” 

“Yup, you’ve definitely been worth the money, Patrick,” Mr. Rose said, chuckling like it was funny.

There was a quiet noise, like someone couldn’t quite hold back a sound.Mr. and Mrs. Rose froze, eyes going wide.Patrick refused to turn around.David was at a fundraiser.David was at a fundraiser. 

The room was cold and quiet.“They’re paying you?” David’s voice broke into the silence. 

The sorrow in his question finally made Patrick turn around, and he lurched out of the chair, chasing the black blur that had quickly vanished.David’s shoulders were shaking as he ran outside and Patrick tried to keep up—for someone who hated exercise, David was _fast—_and the butler jumped as Patrick ran past.

David came to a stop on the lawn, shuddering, apparently realizing there was nowhere to go unless an Uber magically appeared.Patrick grabbed his arm gently, turning him towards Patrick. “David, it’s not—I’m not—“

David jerked away; the force of it had Patrick stumbling.“I’m used to my parents meddling.I’m upset at them, but I’m not _surprised._This is what they do.But I thought—”he shut his eyes, voice breaking, and Patrick could feel tears running down his own cheeks.“God, I was so _stupid_.I thought you liked me for me_, _and not my parent’s money.”

“I do, David._I do._”David had wrapped his arms around himself, head down; he looked small.Patrick had never seen him look small before.“I came here today to tell them that I didn’t want a part in our deal anymore.I wanted to be with you for real. ”

David laughed bitterly.“Wow, you _are _good.No wonder they hired you.And the whole ‘I’ve never been with another man’ schtick!Are you even gay?”

“I—David, the only thing I lied to you about was the money.” Patrick wanted to touch him, to hug him, to hold him tight.“I did it for the money in the beginning, yeah.I wanted to help out my parents, or I never would have agreed.But—the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted it to be real.I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how, because what we have _is _real.”He swallowed.The truth of his feelings had been echoing in his brain since he’d realized that, even with parents’ debt, he couldn’t take the Roses’ money.He’d rather find some other way to pay it off than hurting David, even if he had to go back to the fucking Cheek Boutique.“I love you, David.”

It was quiet, Patrick’s confession hanging still in the air.David’s face shifted, and for a minute, he looked like he was about to step into Patrick’s arms.Patrick’s heart leapt, and he swore to himself, then and there, that he would spend every day doing whatever it took to let this man know he was loved. 

Finally, David swallowed.“Make sure you refund the movie tickets you bought for tomorrow night.We wouldn’t want to waste any more of anyone’s money,” he said, bitterness coloring his voice. 

He turned and walked back inside, and Patrick watched him go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have my most stressful final in like twenty minutes so I decided to put this up instead of, idk, studying? Thank you so much for all of your wonderful comments! I will probably be re-reading them all in like an hour when I'm crying about health law.

Patrick took sick leave the next few days at work; he was dangerously low, with all the leave he’d used for his Mom’s chemo, but he knew himself well enough to know that using a day off was better than breaking into tears anytime anyone said something to him.He texted and called David more than he was proud of, but they all went unanswered.At one point, halfway into a bottle of whiskey, he left a humiliating voicemail that was just Patrick crooning _If I Could Turn Back Time._When he was sober, he texted David again, and a _number is no longer in service _message blinked back at him. 

The next day, there was a hefty deposit in his bank account from Rose Corp LLC, with a simple note that said _for services rendered_.

Ted came in occasionally to shove protein smoothies and bottles of water at him; Patrick distantly thought Ted should also to be at work, but he didn’t argue.Ted looked a little rough around the edges himself, and Patrick realized he hadn’t seen Alexis around in a while.

Two days in, his Mom called.He figured it was her Spidey Sense telling her something was wrong with her only child, but she had another matter in mind. “Patrick—someone called the hospital and paid off all of our bills,” she said, clearly confused.“It was anonymous, but the memo said _for the movie tickets._I don’t understand.Did you and David had something to do with this?”

Patrick hadn’t, but it was obvious where the money had come from.Only David Rose could make a giant _fuck you _out of a charitable donation.Patrick lasted about ten seconds before he was blubbering like a child, spilling out the whole story to his Mom.

Marcy shushed him like he was a little kid.“_Honey,” _she tsked.“I love you so much for doing that for your father and me.But honestly?That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He laughed for the first time since the Roses’s mansion.“I didn’t expect I’d like him so much.I’m sorry; I just wanted to help you guys.”

She tsk’ed.“You’re the kid.Even if you’re over thirty now, you’re still my baby.It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

Patrick was crying again.“I really loved him, Mom.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said again.“I know.” 

~

On day three, instead of the pizza guy, he found Alexis and Stevie at his door.“You!”Alexis shoved her way inside and stuck a finger out at him.Despite the fact that she could probably wear one of Patrick’s pant legs as a dress, he was still a little afraid.“David has been drunk crying for three days straight, and it’s all your fault.Do you know how many mafia dons owe me a favor?”

Stevie sighed, pulling her back slightly.“Okay, we said we weren’t going to go with the threats _right _away.But yeah, you fucked up,” she said, turning to Patrick.

He scrubbed a hand over his face.“Yeah, I got that, thanks for coming all this way to tell me.”

“But—” she started, Alexis glaring behind her. “It’s not easy to make David smile, but you make it look effortless.So either you’ve taken this con _way_ farther than any of us thought, or you’re actually in love with him, and no offense, but you don’t seem to be that great of an actor to me.”

“I was in my high school’s production of a Christmas Carol,” he protested weakly.

Stevie looked at him steadily.“Patrick, David is a proud person.You’re going to have to work hard to fix this.”

He nodded, and they walked at the door, as sudden as they had come.“Wait,” he called.They stopped.

“Alexis,” he said.“Don’t be mad at Ted.He really cares about you.” 

She rolled her eyes.“Yeah, well, he’s going to have to buy a lot of jewelry to make it up to me.”

He shut the door.It was time to get to work.

~

The days passed, and Patrick started furiously researching business incorporation processes and local properties for rent every spare moment he had.David was always on his mind.Cousin Jim proposed to his girlfriend at Red Lobster, and the first person he wanted to tell was David.Patrick watched more than one Nora Ephron movie.He carefully placed the tiny bear David had won at the fair on the shelf behind his desk at work.

He drove to his parents one morning; Alexis’s shoes had been in the living room when he’d woken up, and Patrick hadn’t been ready to see her.His mom was babying him, making chocolate chip pancakes like he was a kid—he thought she was about one mopey weekend away from making them into smiley faces.He felt bad—her hair was just reaching her shoulders again, and here she was, having to take care of Patrick.His Dad was worse; he’d called Patrick _bud _and _sport _no less than five times.

“Sweetheart,” she hummed as he picked at his food. “I don’t want to pry, but. . .I’ve been seeing a therapist about everything, and it’s been really helpful.Have you ever thought about it?I just—you were working so hard to take care of me, and then everything with David—”

Patrick responded _sure, Mom _in the way that meant he had no intention of following her advice, but the more Patrick thought about it, the more he thought it might not be a bad idea. He made an appointment, and then another, and another.Dr. Hernandez was a tiny, soft-faced woman who smiled a lot, and she reminded him of his Mom.“Patrick, you were trying to help your parents and got in over your head,” she said one day.“Yes, you made a mistake and hurt someone you cared about.And you have to figure out a way to make peace with that.But you are clearly a good person who loves very deeply.You have to forgive yourself.”

So Patrick kept working on his last grand romantic gesture, and if it didn’t work, then Patrick was going to have to move on. David deserved love.He had so much love to give for anyone wiling to take the time with him.If Patrick wasn’t going to be that person, then he’d just have to deal with it. 

A few days later, he came home to find Alexis on the couch.He nodded at her briefly before trying to make a bee-line to his room, but when she didn’t respond, he took a second look at her.She was curled on the couch, and her eyes were red, mascara streaked down her cheeks.“Alexis,” he asked, turning towards her against his better judgement, “is everything okay?”

She sniffed.“Patrick—I—” and then she dissolved into tears again.

“Whoa whoa,” he said, settling on the couch next to her.He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, and she shuddered again, leaning into him.“Is Ted okay?Is—is David okay?” Speaking his name aloud felt like coughing up a razor blade.

“They’re fine,” she sniffed, reassuring him.“Um.We—our family lost all our money today.Something about our dad’s business manager and embezzlement?The IRS raided our house and—”

He got the story in bits and pieces from there; apparently the Roses had lost _everything._There was something about a hotel, so Johnny and Moira at least had a place to stay; Alexis, he assumed by the suit cases piled in the hall, Alexis would be staying with Ted for the next few days.

Eventually, Ted returned and took over comforting duties, pulling Alexis into his chest and murmuring a quiet _thanks _to Patrick.Patrick sat down at the desk in his room, staring at the reports he’d worked so hard to pull together.He took a deep breath and gathered them up.

Patrick sighed a little when his finger still worked on the keypad in David’s building.It was probably just an oversight rather than David intentionally removing him from the visitor’s list, but either way, convenient for him.When the elevator reached the penthouse, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

David looked tear stained and exhausted, but he was still the most beautiful thing Patrick had ever seen. 

“Great,” David said.“If my parents still owe you money, you’re too late to collect.” 

“Can I come in?”Patrick asked.He didn’t particularly want to do this in the hall.

David sighed, but ultimately stepped away, leaving Patrick to follow.There were boxes haphazardly strewn around the living room, clothes falling out of them; the furniture was half disassembled, as if someone had gotten impatient halfway through.“This place is in my name,” David said, “but it’s only a matter of time before I get evicted.I took a step back from the galleries, so I don’t have any income of my own coming in.”

Patrick turned to look at him.David had nurtured his gallery like it was his child.“Why did you stop the galleries?” 

David chuckled mirthlessly. “It turns out you weren’t the only thing my parents were paying for.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.So can I help you?”David waved a hand at the mess around him.“I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 

Patrick took a deep breath and handed David the notebook, the envelope carefully on top.“That is a business plan for the store you always talked about.Drafts of all the paperwork you’ll need to file, sample vendor contracts, potential real estate spaces.Everything you need to get started.”

David laughed that horrible laugh again.“Yeah, in case you didn’t get the memo, I’m not exactly in the position to be starting new businesses at the moment.”

Patrick nodded.“Right, and that definitely changes things—you’re going to need more money, but there are some local grants I think you’d be eligible for.But, uh.” 

He paused, and David waved as his wrist, as if to say _get on with it!_Patrick cleared his throat.“Uh, in the envelope is a cashier’s check for all the money your parents gave me.”David went still. “Regardless if anything happens with us—and David, I really do love you—I didn’t feel right keeping it.You can start the business or burn it if you want, although it’s probably enough to keep you in the apartment a little longer.”

David swallowed, and said quietly.“I’m not good with the business side of things.”

Patrick looked up at him.Even now, after everything that had happened, David stood tall.He’d let Patrick in after Patrick had broken his heart, and Patrick could see David’s mind racing, flipping through the business plan.“David Rose, I think you could do you anything you set your mind to.”

“If I did start the store. . .maybe, you could. . .” David swallowed, and nodded as if he’d come to a decision, “give advice, on occasion.” 

And Patrick’s heart started to beat again.

_ **Six Months Later** _

It had snowed overnight, which had made Patrick a little nervous about the turn out for that night.It had taken weeks of needling to convince David an open mic night would bring in traffic, and Patrick would be damned if he was proven wrong because of the weather.David was quiet all day, apparently still surly at having to allow amateur poets into his space, but he drank the coffee Patrick had bought him, so Patrick counted it as a win.

At some point, the crowd began trickling in to Patrick’s relief.Stevie was one of the first to arrive, and when she saw Patrick tuning his guitar, her eyes lit up with glee.“Please, _please _tell me you’re going to play Wonder Wall.”

“Mm, I was thinking I would do an acoustic Metallica set?”he said, strumming badly. 

_Absolutely not! _David screamed from the stock room. 

With the Roses having lost everything, Stevie had found a new job, but she’d still stayed in their orbit.Patrick was grateful beyond words for her—not only had she been there for David when Patrick had broken his heart, but she was also the only of David’s so called friends that had stuck around after David lost his money.

Well, and Patrick.He was pretty sure David considered him a friend, anyway.Things were still delicate between them, but they were in a much better place than when they’d started this venture.David had even said _our store _last week, and Patrick had to excuse himself to the bathroom to scream into his fist.

When it was finally time to begin, Patrick took a second to welcome the crowd before looking out over the space that David had built from scratch.Rose Apothecary was David’s beautiful phoenix, risen from the ashes of his past life.And somehow, Patrick had been lucky enough to come along for the ride. 

“This is, uh, for David,” he said, beginning to play.“I wouldn’t be here without him.”

_[This is the first day of my life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwFS69nA-1w),_he sang, unable to take his eyes off David, who was squirming and looking at the floor._Yours is the first face that I saw; think I was blind before I met you. _

Hours later, when the last customer had left and it was just the two of them cleaning,David stood still, not looking up.“Did you mean it?”

“Every word,” Patrick said.

David walked around slowly, cautiously, as if he was a wounded animal.Patrick held his breath. 

David’s hand reached out and curled around Patrick’s neck.And then they were kissing, just a quick, light peck, but when David pulled back, he was smiling. 

And Patrick really did feel like something new was starting.

He couldn’t wait to see where it took them. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at ohlafraise!


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